


How to Fail at Kidnapping Tony Stark

by reona32



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Dancing, First Kiss, M/M, Protective Steve, always do what Pepper says, sneaky dating, sort of, stupid villains
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-21
Updated: 2013-06-15
Packaged: 2017-12-09 01:37:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/768461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reona32/pseuds/reona32
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Really, you’d think people would know better by now. Or. Steve really should learn to do what Pepper tells him to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter I

Steve only learned about the charity gala when Pepper appeared holding a dove grey suit and a thick binder full of glossy photos in the middle of the week. “The gala starts at 7 pm this Saturday,” the red-headed woman was saying as she hung the suit up in his closet, the protective plastic bag crinkling. “The limo will be here at 6 pm sharp. This will leave you and the other Avengers enough time to traverse the red carpet outside and speak with the media.”

“Media?” squeaked Steve.

Pepper gave him a sympathetic look. “One of Stark Industries’ PR reps will be with you. Amanda, I think. Tony and I will be nearby if you have a problem. Just be calm and answer questions posed to you politely. If they ask you something you can’t and don’t want to answer, then just say ‘no comment’ and you’ll be fine.” She set the large binder on a table and lifted her StarkPad up to make some note with a silver stylus, the type Steve kept breaking or losing all over the Tower. “Dinner will be at 8 pm. Is the beef okay for you or do you want the chicken or fish? There is also a vegetarian option, if you want.”

“Um, the beef will be fine.”

The stylus moved quickly across the StarkPad again. “After dinner will be the speeches.” Steve felt himself pale and Pepper gave him another sympathetic look. “You won’t be required to make a speech yourself. Tony has it covered. After that will be the social part of the gala, drinks and dancing mostly. Try to relax for that. I suspect a lot of people are going to want to speak with you and the other Avengers. Just be calm and make polite small talk.” There was a buzzing noise and Pepper pulled a cell phone out from somewhere on her person. From where, Steve had no idea. She was wearing a sleek skirt that didn’t appear to have any pockets. It was like magic. Pepper frowned down at the device for a moment and then looked up at Steve. “Any questions?”

“No, Miss Potts,” replied Steve, feeling like he’d been run over.

“Great. And I’ve told you repeatedly to call me Pepper. Just go over the binder and be ready by 6 pm on Saturday. You’ll be fine.” Pepper then breezed out of Steve’s room, already speaking into her cell phone in a language that was not English and Steve didn’t recognize.

Steve ran a hand over his face and sighed. This could only end badly in his opinion. Well, at least it wasn’t dancing girls and war bond promotions. He could probably handle this. He hoped. He had dealings with the media during the war. It couldn’t be that bad. Steve retrieved the binder Pepper had left and began to flip through it. It was nothing more than photos of people and a short blurb about who they were and what they did. Steve assumed it was the guest list for the gala. He only recognized the Mayor of New York and that was only because Steve had seen the man repeatedly on the news. He got about ten pages into it before sighing in frustration and tossing the binder away. If Pepper thought he was going to remember all of those people then she was crazy. Everyone in the future was crazy.

Still, after a day of distracting himself in the gym, Steve showered and began to get dressed Saturday evening. He was nervous, despite repeatedly telling himself he had no reason to be, and was on his fourth attempt to knot his tie correctly when there was a soft knock on his door. Maybe it was someone who could help him with his bloody tie. “Yes?”

“Captain Rogers? It’s Amanda Warner, your PR liaison? Can I come in? We need to go over a few things.”

Steve looked down at himself. He wasn’t wearing any shoes but was wearing the rest of the suit, minus the jacket. That was more than acceptable now, wasn’t it? He supposed so, seeing as Clint often walked around in his boxers and Natasha in a long sleep shirt like it was no big deal. “Yes, you can come in.”

The door clicked open and a young woman walked in. She was faintly familiar, in that Steve thought he’d seen her in the cloud of people that often followed Tony and Pepper around more than once. She was wearing a long black dress with her brown hair done up in a French braid. “Oh good. You’re dressed. We might actually make it down to the cars on time,” the woman said with obvious relief in her voice when she saw Steve.

Steve blinked. “Are the other’s having problems, Miss Warner?”

“Amanda, please.” She dumped several small boxes and a StarkPad on the table, along with a…hat box? “Laura is having problems tracking Mr. Barton down and, well, Pepper is handling Mr. Stark but there’s nothing new with that.” She made an impatient gesture toward Steve’s chest. “Now, stop mangling your tie and come here.” Amanda knotted up his tie with a few deft twists and then opened up some of the small black boxes she carried in. She secured a gold tie pin, smoothing down the silk tie, and started to add a matching pair of cufflinks to his shirt sleeves.

“I couldn’t possibly wear these,” protested Steve when he saw them.

“Nonsense. Everyone has been loaned the appropriate jewelry for the evening from Mr. Stark’s private collection. You can return them in the morning,” said Amanda crisply.

“I guess that’s okay,” muttered Steve, uncomfortable.

Amanda tugged on his clothing like he was a fidgety child, making Steve blush. “Shoes,” she ordered when she was done. She snatched up the StarkPad as Steve sat to pull on the shiny dress shoes. “Now, I know you had some dealings with the media back in the 40’s, so this shouldn’t be too much of a disaster.” Steve very much doubted his experiences were going to be much help. “We’ve agreed to speak with People, TMZ, NBC, ABC, and CBS.” Steve had already learned that lovely bit of alphabet soup meant television channels. “Mr. Stark is refusing to let Fox Network anywhere near any of you on pain of something really nasty being done to him by Miss Romanoff. So we are lucky there. They’ve been given a list of approved questions and strict guidelines to follow when speaking with any of the Avengers. Jacket, please,” Amanda ordered when Steve had his shoes on. “Mostly how you find the 21 century. What’s it like to work with a team again. How it feels to save the world. That type of thing. If you don’t want to answer anything then just say so. Don’t feel obligated to put up with anything invasive or rude.” Amanda gave Steve a big smile, light pink gloss on her lips. “I will be with you every step of the way. If you feel uncomfortable at any time, then just let me know and we’ll hustle you out of there. Mr. Stark has made it very clear that none of the Avengers are to feel harassed.”

Steve could feel his lips turning up at that. “That’s nice of him.”

Amanda gave Steve a critical look over and nodded sharply. “I think you’ll do.” She snatched up the round box from the table and slipped off the lid. Inside was a fedora to match the suit. Steve couldn’t help the pleased smile the crossed his face as he took out the hat. Amanda chuckled as he put it on and turned toward the mirror. “Mr. Stark thought you would be pleased by that.” Steve pulled off the hat with a blush. Amanda checked a dainty watch around her left wrist. “Time to go,” she announced. She stacked the empty boxes neatly on the table and picked up a small black purse on a gold chain and her StarkPad. She then herded Steve out of the door and down the hall to the elevator. “Jarvis, please let Pepper know that Captain Rogers is ready and on his way down to the garage.”

“Of course, Amanda,” replied the AI.

“Please, call me Steve,” said Steve. Everyone calling him by his rank and last name made him nervous.

Amanda smiled, tapping at her StarkPad. “You are too precious. Steve it is, then.” Steve blushed in response and Amanda chuckled at him. The elevator opened and they stepped out into the garage in the basement.

A nervous looking Bruce looked up at them and smiled wanly. Thor fidgeted next to him, wearing a suit instead of his armor. Natasha gave Steve a bored glance, her red dress hugging her curves. Steve felt himself flush again and fiddled with his hat. A small group of StarkPad carrying young women and men stood with them. “We’re still missing Mr. Barton and Laura and Mr. Stark and Pepper,” announced one of the men.

“Jarvis?” prompted a woman with long dark hair.

“Mr. Barton and Laura are in the elevator and will arrive momentarily. Mr. Stark and Pepper are on their way.” The AI’s voice sounded tinny down in the garage.

They all stood there for a long moment. Two black limos pulled up before them and several men in dark suits got out, Happy Hogan being one of them. Several silent nods were exchanged between Happy and the Avengers. Steve began to feel slightly awkward as Amanda toyed with her StarkPad next to him. He put on his hat before he could mangle it with his fiddling. The dark haired woman that had spoken to Jarvis fished in her little bag and offered Bruce a peppermint. The man brightened and took the candy, then looked lost with the empty wrapper. The woman, who Steve assumed was Bruce’s PR liaison, took the wrapper from him with a soft smile. The elevator finally opened and Clint was fairly shoved out of it by a small blond haired woman who must be Laura.

“Well, don’t you look dapper as shit,” Clint said as he caught sight of Steve.

“Clint,” warned Natasha.

The archer turned toward the assassin and pointed sharply back at the woman that had arrived with him. “Can you believe she actually climbed into the air duct to fish me out!”

“I wouldn’t have had to if you weren’t acting like a complete child,” snapped Laura, yanking off a pair of sneakers and accepting some heels from Bruce’s PR liaison. “Thanks, Emily.”

“Lord Brian, are we going to be late to the feast?” asked Thor loudly.

“It’s only 6:03, Thor. We’ll be fine. And it’s just Brian, no lord necessary.”

“This is a bad idea. Emily, this is a bad idea,” muttered Bruce.

“You will be fine, Bruce. Don’t worry,” replied the dark haired woman with the candy.

The elevator opened just then and Tony sprang from it, collar up and missing his suit jacket. Laura and Brain jumped out of his way as he plowed through their group, talking a mile a minute on his cell phone. “No. No. NO! A thousand times NO! I swear to god if I arrive there tomorrow and it’s gone I will end you.” Happy yanked open the door of the limo he was leaning against and Tony disappeared into it without pausing.

Pepper was on his heels, tie draped over her shoulder and jacket clutched in her arms. “Let’s go people! Avengers in this limo. PR liaisons in the next. Chop chop!” called Pepper as she followed Tony into the car.

“You heard the woman,” said Amanda, herding Steve forward. Steve took off his hat and got into the limo, finding Pepper trying to strangle Tony inside. Or, well, it seemed like she was trying to strangle Tony.

“Stop wiggling. You’ll wrinkle it,” hissed Pepper.

Tony tilted his head back so Pepper could get his tie on. “Well, you could do that, if you wanted to explode and die a horrible messy death. Please don’t. I hate having to pay to have that shit cleaned up.”

Steve had learned not to take the things Tony said literally, even if he couldn’t stop faint horror from twisting his mouth. He slid in next to Pepper and laid his hat in his lap. Natasha shoved Clint inside the limo and climbed in after him. Thor and Bruce seated themselves and Happy shut the door. Pepper’s foot shot out and pushed a button with the spike of her heels. The window partition to the cab slid down. “I think we’re good to go, Happy,” Pepper announced, shoving Tony’s right arm into his suit jacket.

“Sure thing, Miss Potts,” replied Happy. The limo began to smoothly move forward.

Tony made a sound of frustration usually bestowed upon super villains. “You know what? You don’t touch anything. Yates, I forbid you to touch anything else. Is Patterson there? I want to talk to Patterson! Get me Patterson! Patterson? Yates is not allowed to touch anything else. Tie him to a chair if you have to. He is going to kill you all. You are now head geek, Patterson. I dethrone Yates and crown you. Now, stop trying to rewire my baby. You are going to kill yourselves. Stop. I don’t care. It will explode if you do that. This is an order from your lord and master. Save your work and go home. Home. Do you understand me? No. NO! Go home. Yes. Thank you.” Tony snapped his cell phone shut and groaned. “How did I end up employing such stupid people?”

“Do I need to call security?” asked Pepper, trying to tame Tony’s hair.

“No. Patterson is a good girl. She’ll wrangle the others and actually get them to leave.” Tony allowed Pepper to yank his arm into her lap and force cufflinks into his sleeves. He blinked around the interior of the limo, as if he had no idea how he’d gotten there. Then his brain seemed to catch up and he grinned. “Well, don’t you all clean up nice.”

“That Laura woman is a menace!” cried Clint, apparently unable to hold the comment in anymore.

“Laura woman?” asked Tony, looking at Pepper.

“Short blond hair, brown eyes. Chased you across Madrid two years ago. Punched out that horrible reporter in Cannes last summer.”

“Laura woman!” exclaimed Tony, recognition lighting up his eyes. “I like her. She’s got spunk.”

“And a great right hook,” agreed Pepper with a smirk.

“What about you, Cap? Do you like your liaison? Uh?” Tony looked toward Pepper again.

“Amanda. Long brown hair, blue eyes. Handled that puppy mill horror last year. Threw her drink at Justin Hammer when he grabbed her butt a couple months ago.”

“Yeah! I like her too,” said Tony happily. “I see she got you your hat.”

Steve ran his fingers around the fedora in his lap. This was probably the best dressed he’d ever been outside of his military dress uniform. “Yes. Thank you so much for the clothing, Tony.”

“Yes, thank you for the clothing,” said Clint snidely.

“I think you look very nice, Clint,” said Natasha calmly. They watched Clint freeze and then blush.

“Are you sure this is appropriate clothing for feasts?” Thor asked doubtfully.

“Yes, Thor. You are not wearing your armor to a sit down dinner. You look fine,” answered Pepper, tapping away on her cell phone.

Tony leaned in. “You told the staff to have extra for Thor, right?”

“Of course,” Pepper muttered back. Bruce sucked noisily on his peppermint.

“Happy? Are we there yet?” called Tony impatiently.

“Almost, sir. Just a bit of traffic around the banquet center,” replied the driver. Tony sighed and stretched out one leg to tap Steve’s shoe with his own, his tongue peeking out between his lips as if this required a great deal of concentration.

“Don’t be childish,” scolded Pepper. Steve ducked his head and fought back a smile. It was like being on a car trip with a bunch of siblings. The car stopped and Pepper closed her cell phone. “Alright. Here goes nothing. Remember to smile, everyone.” Happy opened the door and Thor sprang from the limo like it was a horrible prison. Bruce edged out after him. David and Emily were standing by to collect them, guiding them through flashing cameras. Emily offered Bruce another hard candy.

Natasha and Clint left the limo next, a man Steve hadn’t caught the name of and Laura waiting for them. Laura looked as if she was posed to chase Clint down if he tried to make a run for it. Steve exited the dim car after them, freezing as cameras flashed and the noise of people talking and shouting swelled. Amanda appeared by his elbow. “Put your hat on,” she ordered calmly. He did as he was told stiffly. “Now, walk forward so Pepper can get out of the limo.”

Steve flushed and jumped forward, turning to see Pepper giving him a worried look from just inside the car door. “I’m so sorry, Pepper,” he said. There was a soft whistle from behind her and Pepper stood, her long blue dress settling around her legs. Tony climbed out next, his own concerned look directed at Steve. Then the noise rose again and a bright false smile spread quickly across his face. Steve felt himself hunch a little. He hated that smile.

Amanda patted his arm, angling herself to block the action from the cameras. “Relax. You’re doing fine,” she soothed. Steve winced; he could barely hear her talk over the noise of people calling for Iron Man and Captain America. It was chaos. “Smile and wave,” instructed Amanda. Steve did as he was commanded, his face feeling rigid. Amanda shuffled him forward.

Steve was proud to say that even while his ears buzzed with panic as he talked with the first media person, the other half of his mind was cataloguing where his team was and how they were fairing. As promised, Tony and Pepper were right next to him. The dark haired genius was talking a mile a minute and the hum of his voice settled in the back of Steve’s brain, familiar and calming. Emily had positioned Bruce with his back to a wall, the tips of her fingers gently pressed between his shoulder blades. Thor and Brian were next to them, the god with a blinding grin on his face. Natasha and Clint were in the thick of it, people swarming around them like a small whirlpool. Both SHIELD agents were calm among the madness. Laura and the male PR liaison whose name Steve didn’t know were nearby. Laura was still watching Clint like a, well, hawk.

Then they were suddenly at the doors to the banquet center. Steve blinked. The red carpet and the interviews were a blur, in much the same way that battle became hazy with adrenaline and pure terror. Steve felt his lips twist in self-deprecation. Apparently, invading aliens he could handle but not the media. Now the Avengers were standing at the top of the steps while countless cameras flashed. Tony leaned toward him. “Are you okay? You look like you’re in pain,” he said out of the corner of his mouth.

Steve tried to get his face to settle into a more natural smile. “I’m fine,” he muttered back.

“Uh huh,” replied Tony, one eyebrow arching. He stepped forward and raised both hands to the crowd. “Thank you everybody!” Tony cried. “You’ve been lovely! Thanks for coming out! I love you all!” He then spun on his heel, putting his back to the media and cameras. “Everybody inside.” Steve didn’t have to be told twice and fairly lunged through the doors. The PR liaisons and Pepper brought up the rear, closing the doors firmly behind the team.

“That wasn’t so bad,” commented Bruce. Emily was once again holding out a palm full of candy since her purse was apparently nothing but sweets.

“Aye! I was led to believe it would be more torturous,” said Thor.

“This was not what I signed up for,” complained Clint. “I am a highly trained SHIELD agent with a specific skill set! I should not be made to dress up like a Ken doll and make nice with rude reporters.”

“They weren’t that bad,” said Steve, hoping to calm Clint down.

Tony snickered. “The CBS lady asked you if you wore boxers or briefs.” Steve blinked and turned red. He didn’t remember that.

“I thought you were going to faint,” said Amanda, tapping away on her StarkPad. “Things are looking good. The first news blurbs are positive and you’re already trending on Twitter. Google hits just skyrocketed.” She gave Steve a sly smile. “You are apparently the most handsome thing on two legs and too cute for words.” Steve felt his face flush again.

“Tony was charming and lively,” announced Pepper, scrolling through her cell phone. “Bruce was sweet and shy and Thor is a big old puppy dog. Good, good. You both need the good press.”

“Mr. Barton and Miss Romanov are sexy and deadly and, I quote, too hot to handle,” said Laura. She smirked at Clint. “Not bad for a Ken doll.” The archer glared at the PR liaison.

“And that’s us done,” announced Amanda. “We get to go home and change into comfortable clothing. You shmucks get to stay here and suffer through the boredom.”

Tony pouted. “I’m liking you a lot less all of the sudden.”

“Sorry, Mr. Stark. I only herd superhero cats until you hit the doors. After that you’re on your own.”

Tony grinned. “Forgiven, if only because that image is hilarious.” Pepper was trying to subtly nudge everyone toward the entrance to the ballroom. There was a man standing at the doors, pointedly checking his watch and staring at them.

“Thank you so much for your help, Miss Warner,” Steve said as they were shuffled along. Emily was offering the last of the candy in her purse to Bruce and Clint and Laura were hissing at each other like snakes, holding some low conversation not even Steve’s super solider hearing could make out. Thor was hailing Brain as a most excellent steward and the silent young man that had been Natasha’s PR liaison was already striding away from them across the lobby. Steve knew a strategic retreat when he saw one.

Amanda flapped a hand and rolled her eyes. “I said to call me Amanda and you’re welcome. Have a good evening.” She left with the rest of the PR liaisons. Steve was kind of sorry to see her go.

“I like Amanda. She’s nice,” said Steve.

“Nice. Right. We’ll get you some friendship bracelets later,” snipped Tony. Pepper pinched him in the arm. “Ow!”

“Behave,” muttered the red-headed woman.

“I am being an utter angel and you know it,” grumbled Tony, allowing himself to be shuffled along to the ballroom.


	2. Chapter II

The Avengers reached the ballroom and the noise around them rose again, although there was a lack of flashing cameras this time. Every well-dressed person in the room was staring at them, the team center of attention at the gala. “Not again,” muttered Steve. Bruce gave him a sympathetic pat on the arm. Steve took off his hat and sighed, preparing himself to be surrounded again. Too bad he didn’t have his shield with him. It would be so much easier. If he didn’t feel so bad about destroying half of Manhattan, he’d still be hiding in the Tower.

They had about an hour before dinner and apparently everyone in attendance was set on talking with Steve in that time. And touching him. There were a lot of grabby hands. This was very awkward. More so than the red carpet had been outside. Everyone was fascinated by the Avengers and nobody had any sense of personal space. Steve took a step back from a grey-haired lady that was trying to feel his bicep and looked franticly around for Tony. The genius said he would be nearby. Steve caught sight of Pepper talking in a group near the tall windows that overlooked the city skyline but he didn’t see Tony in the same group. He hopped up on his toes, looking for the familiar dark head.

Steve finally found him when some of the other guests shifted aside, in the middle of another group of people. Tony was smiling and talking but it was the smile that Steve always saw on television. Plastic and unreal and Steve hated that smile. It meant that you were talking with Tony Fucking Stark, instead of just Tony, who drank too much coffee and talked to his robots and had to be reminded to eat and sleep. Steve excused himself from the people he was talking to and made his way toward Tony when the portion of his brain that was always aware of where his team was click on like a bright lamp. He paused and swept his eyes around the hall.

Steve counted four of them, all dressed in fine but plain black suits; unimportant, forgettable, and able to fade into the background. Except in the way Steve realized they were all circling Tony. Steve cataloged the way they stood, angled so Tony was always in their field of vision. Steve watched them for a moment, a silent dance. One of them, a man with salt and pepper hair and sharp blue eyes, looked up and scanned the crowd in much the same manner Steve was doing. Steve dropped his gaze and tried to look calm as he made his way over to Tony and touched his arm. Tony looked surprised to see him there and then a real smile lit up his face. “Hey, Cap! Having fun?”

Steve tried to smile but feared it came out a little grim. “I need to talk with you a second.”

Tony’s smile dimmed with concern. “Sure thing. Ladies, gentlemen, excuse me for a moment.” His audience made disappointment noises as Steve pulled Tony away and began to herd him across the room. “Cap? What’s wrong?”

Steve glanced back, seeing two of the men following them through the crowd. “Just a moment,” he muttered to Tony. He then suddenly cut a right angle and hurried to a nearby door. Steve pushed Tony inside and turned to see if the door had a lock.

“Cap? What’s going on? Avengers business?” asked Tony. He glanced around the dim library, the nighttime city glittering through the tall windows and the walls lined with leather bound books. There were sofas and armchairs placed around warm pools of lamplight for cozy reading but the room was thankfully empty. Tony frowned in confusion.

Steve gave up on the door and simply twisted the knob off in his hand. “No,” he said, grabbing Tony’s elbow again and pulling him across the room. There was another door on the opposite side of the room and Steve wanted to put some more distance between them and those men. “Listen, don’t be alarmed, but there were four men in there with eyes only on you. I think they were up to something,” Steve said tightly, visions of kidnappings and assassinations dancing in his head.

Tony blinked at him. “Four men…? Well of course they were… Steve? Wait!” Tony tried to dig in his heels but Steve yanked him along. They needed to get out of the library and call the other Avengers, maybe round those guys up and see what they were up to. “Steve, they were just…” The door behind them was kicked open, wood splintering, and Steve spun them around, shoving Tony behind him.

The man that had been scanning the crowd stormed inside the library and pulled a gun. “Freeze!” he shouted. Steve tensed himself; he didn’t have his shield and Tony didn’t have his armor but he’d be damned if he was going to let anyone hurt Tony while on his watch.

“Oh hell,” muttered Tony, trying to wiggle out of Steve’s grip. “Kevin! Kevin, we do not point guns at Captain America! Bad minion! Bad!”

“Captain America appears to be trying to force you somewhere against your will, Mr. Stark,” replied the man holding a gun at them. “If the good Captain would so kindly let you go, I would be grateful.” Steve blinked, confused. The military mindset of ‘protect and defend’ ran up against the wall of ‘does not compute’ and stalled.

“Steve? Steve, let me go. That was your one polite request. The next thing Kevin does is shoot you in the kneecaps,” Tony said in a tense voice.

“You know this man?” Steve asked.

“Kevin is one of my bodyguards, Steve. I’ve known him since I was a teenager.” Tony twisted his wrist out of Steve slack grasp and trotted across the library toward the other man. Kevin lowered his gun to point at the floor as Tony neared him.

“I’m confused,” said Steve, exasperated.

“Thank you. That is obvious,” snapped Tony. He grabbed at Kevin’s jacket and shoved his hands inside. “Where is it? Where is it? Come on, you paranoid pocket hopper.” With a cry of triumph, Tony pulled out a sleek little device. There were three sharp clicks. “Get to the library and one of you grab Pepper,” Tony growled into the device. “Kevin? Kevin, put the gun away. It’s not nice to point guns at National Icons. Stop it.”

“No,” Kevin replied in a deadpan voice.

Two more of the men appeared at the door. “Moe! Curly! Where were you when I was being not-kidnapped?” pouted Tony.

Steve sighed and started across the room but stopped when Kevin’s gun came back up. “I’d prefer it if you stayed there, Captain.”

“Kevin,” growled Tony. Pepper, Clint, and Natasha entered the room. “Kevin, I will have Black Widow break every bone in your arm if you don’t stop pointing a weapon at my friend.” The gun faltered for a moment and then disappeared into Kevin’s suit jacket. He glared at Steve and Steve glared back. The last of the unidentified men entered the room and forced the door shut. “Pepper? Pep, didn’t you give Steve the binder? Remember? The ‘important people’ binder?” demanded Tony, using air quotes.

“I did,” replied Pepper, insulted. “I gave a binder to each of the Avengers.”

A vague memory tickled the back of Steve’s mind. “Oh.”

Tony spun and glared at him. “Oh? Oh! Please tell me you looked through the ‘important people’ binder! The one that lists all the servers, banquet center staff, and, more importantly, the names and pictures of my personal security team?”

“Oh god,” muttered Steve, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m an idiot.”

Clint snickered. “Cap just tried to save Princess from his own bodyguards! I love it. I need to Tweet this.”

“Shut up, Clint,” muttered Natasha.

Tony gave a frustrated puff of air. “Ugh! Steve Rogers, I’d like you to meet the head of my personal security, US Division, Kevin Mahome. Kevin, meet Steve Rogers, AKA Captain America.” Steve raised his hand with a self-deprecating smile. Kevin folded his arms over his chest and glared at Steve. Steve’s smile faltered. Tony gave a squawk and kicked Kevin in the ankle. “You’re worse than Rhodey! You should be thanking Steve for his overprotective, megalomaniac tendencies! He was trying to protect me! He was doing your job! Stop making him pout!”

“I’m truly sorry, Mr. Mahome. I made a mess of things,” said Steve, putting every ounce of the ‘ah, shucks’ vibe Tony ever accused him of using on display.

Kevin sighed and unfolded his arms to shake Steve’s hand. “At least you’re more observant than most people I have to put up with,” he said grudgingly. Steve was just going to take that as a compliment and move on.

“See? We’re all friends here,” said Tony. He waved over his shoulder at the three remaining security personnel. “That’s Moe, Larry, and Curly.”

“My name really is Larry,” replied one of the men. “Stop referring to me as Curly.” Steve looked at the tight, dark curls on top of his head and fought down a smile. The bodyguard next to him, the one Tony had addressed as Larry, snickered. The real Larry, who had been addressed as Curly, whacked him in the shoulder. Steve was confused again.

“I don’t mind being called Moe,” said the third man.

“That’s because Moe is the cool Stooge,” complained the false Larry sourly. “I want to be Moe.”

“You are Larry until I say you are not Larry,” threatened Tony.

“Uh oh, somebody needs a nap,” chimed Clint.

“I will end you, Barton. Don’t think I won’t.”

“Maybe we should be getting back to the party before the guests of honor are missed,” suggested Kevin.

“Thank you,” said Pepper. “Dinner will be served soon and you still need to greet the Mayor.” Tony groaned but allowed Pepper to fuss with his tie and jacket before herding him out into the ballroom. They all shuffled out of the library. The four bodyguards melted back into the crowd.

“That was epic. And I thought tonight was going to be boring,” muttered Clint.

“I feel silly now,” said Steve.

“Nah, don’t be. Could have happened to anyone. It was an honest mistake,” Clint replied.

“Even you or Natasha?”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” replied Natasha.

“We read the binder of ‘important people’ that Pepper gave us,” said Clint. Steve sighed. “Aw. Come on, Cap, don’t be like that. Listen, I’ll let you onto a little secret. Always do what Pepper Potts tells you to do, no matter what. There. That’s life made at least 75% easier. Thank me later.” Clint patted Steve on the shoulder and darted off to follow a tray of puff pastries. He had a thing for fancy snacks. That waiter wouldn’t know what hit him.

Steve shook his head. “I thought the binder was just a bunch of bigwigs and society people,” he admitted. “I stopped after a few pages.”

Natasha nodded once. “Those were more for Stark than us, so he would know who he was talking to and greet them by name. This is more business than pleasure for Stark and Pepper. The back of the binder had information on the staff and waiters.”

“Why the waiters?” asked Steve. Not that Steve had a problem with being polite and greeting people by their names but this seemed like an awful large amount of information and preparation for a charity gala.

One of Natasha’s eyebrows rose, like she thought Steve was missing something obvious. “So we would know whom to accept drinks and food from,” she answered.

“I’m sorry. I don’t get it. Why would we have to know who the waiters were?”

Natasha gave a tiny sigh. “The servers listed in the binder have been vetted by Stark Industries and SHIELD security and had background checks. It lessens the chance that they would try to slip us something or are working for someone else. It’s not foolproof but it helps.”

“Slip us something?” Steve asked faintly.

The eyebrow rose again. “Stark has had problems with people drugging his drinks during functions before.” Steve must have looked suitably horrified because Natasha kept talking. “Several sedatives and one or two poisons from what Pepper tells me. With all of the Avengers here, Fury was worried somebody would try something. All of the staff and waiters have been scrutinized to within an inch of their lives.” A feeling of intense panic flowed over Steve and he franticly searched the hall to locate Tony again. He found him in a cluster of people, smiling and talking. Pepper was standing next to him and it took no effort to spot Kevin and the three other bodyguards discreetly circling their positions. Something unknotted in Steve’s chest. Tony was fine. Natasha touched his elbow and Steve was confused by the tiny smile she gave him. “Try to relax. Dinner will start soon,” she said, leaving him. This seemed to be some sort of silent signal for people to surround Steve once more and start asking him embarrassing questions again. Honestly, Steve had no idea why his shoes size was so important.


	3. Chapter III

  
It was a relief to finally be seated in the dining room some short eternity later. The huge round table fit all of the Avengers comfortably. This was important since Thor’s elbows often started arguments around the table back in the Tower and for some reason Clint ate with his left hand even though he did almost everything else with his right. Natasha made Bruce switch with her so her back wouldn’t be facing the windows, shorter and thinner than the windows in the ballroom, and Clint was busy inspecting the glassware for some reason. It had to be a spy thing. Steve picked up the little name card in front of his fancy plate setting. ‘Capt. Steven G. Rogers’ it read in loopy script and Steve fought down a goofy smile. He glanced over to where Tony was sitting next to him, attention fixed on his cellphone again, and read ‘Anthony E. Stark’ on his name card. He thought back and tried to remember if he knew what Tony’s middle name was.  
  
A waiter leaned over Steve’s shoulder and filled his water glass. Two waitresses were asking for their wine choice. This was followed by a salad plate. Steve glanced down at the multiple of forks besides his plate and frowned. He had been taught this; his mother had drilled it into his head when he had been a child. But the information seemed to have been crowded out by other things. His hand hovered above the utensils, hesitant. Tony gave a little cough next to him and Steve glanced over. Tony tapped one of the forks at his own plate setting with his forefinger, his other hand still tapping away on his cellphone. Steve picked up the fork Tony had indicated and began to eat, hoping no one was paying attention. Tony fought down a smile.  
  
The salad was good, fresh and crisp with some sort of sweet dressing. Steve nudged Tony’s arm with his elbow as the genius kept fiddling with his phone. He did it again when Tony ignored him. A third time and Tony slipped his phone back into his jacket with a sigh and picked up his fork with a sour look. Steve smiled in response. Tony was eating this food even if Steve had to sit on him and force it down his throat. Steve was fairly sure the other man hadn’t eaten yet that day.  
  
The waiters circled the table, depositing baskets of bread that emptied in an eye blink and refilling wine glasses. Steve could tell that Natasha and Clint didn’t enjoy that; their shoulders got tense every time someone walked behind them. He felt sorry for them and then had to quickly shovel the last of his salad into his mouth as they came around to collect the plates and bring out the main course. Steak with mushroom sauce. Steve had had better, mostly cooked at the grill in the Tower. Then there was dessert. A huge slice of chocolate cake decorated with sugared flowers and drizzled with white chocolate topped with fresh berries. Steve poked at the flowers with his last fork. (He was assuming this was the dessert fork just because at this point it was the only one he had left.) “You can eat them, you know. They are edible.” Tony leaned over to say, popping one of the flowers into his mouth. Steve was dubious. A lot of things were edible but that didn’t mean they tasted good. Tony chuckled, as if he could tell what Steve was thinking.  
  
A man wound his way through the tables and up onto the raised platform in front. Tony gave a little growl and began to shovel his cake into his mouth. Even Pepper seemed a touch annoyed. Steve was confused as the man greeted the crowd, making a small speech. Then of course the man called for Tony to come up. “Why don’t we hear a few words from our benefactor, Tony Stark!”  
  
Tony dropped his dessert fork onto his plate with a clatter and wiped at his mouth with a napkin. The cake wasn’t even half gone. “Do not let them take away my plate,” Tony muttered to Steve as he stood, pasting on a smile. He made his way up to the platform, the diners clapping. “Thank you, Benningford!” he called into the microphone.  
  
“Benningford?” snickered Clint, chocolate at the corners of his mouth. Natasha threw her napkin at him. Thor was plowing through his piece of cake and looked up in confusion as Tony’s voice echoed across the dining room loudly.  
  
“It’s a pleasure to be here at the Sixth Annual New York Benefit Dinner and Gala,” Tony said happily.  
  
“Oh, thank god. He remembered,” muttered Pepper into her wine glass.  
  
“You’ve been doing this for six years?” whispered Bruce. Pepper gave him a smiling shrug. It seemed like she had been going to dinners and galas all her life at this point.  
  
The waiters began to pass out coffee cups. “Coffee, sir?” one of them asked Steve softly.  
  
“Yes, please. And one for Mr. Stark as well.” The waiter nodded and placed two cups on the table, filling them to the brim from a silver carafe.  
  
“Aye, I would like some of the bitter beverage!” exclaimed Thor, drowning out Tony’s rambling. Bruce hushed him. Clint began to fidget like a bored child and Natasha looked blank, like a student during a particularly dull lecture.  
  
Steve moved Tony’s half-finished cake away from the waiters and placed it in front of himself. “We’ll be keeping that for a bit, thanks,” he said politely. The waiter looked confused but moved on to removing Pepper’s plate. Another waiter came up along Steve’s other side a moment later and tried to remove the half eaten cake. Steve was able to move it to the side just in time. “He’s not done with it, sorry.” Again, the waiter looked confused but moved on. Finally Steve just moved the plate into his lap and hunched over it, half believing the waiters would wrestle it away from him. They were apparently very determined to clear the table. Pepper chuckled at him from across the empty seat between them. Steve gave her a harassed look. They were startled as everyone in the dining room began clapping.  
  
Tony plopped back down between them and frowned down at the empty table. He gave Steve such a wounded, hurt look as to make any four year old proud. “Cake?” he pouted. Steve handed the plate he was hiding to him with an indulgent smile. “Good man,” Tony praised, picking up the fork and quickly taking a bite.  
  
“You act like you’ve been deprived of sweets your whole life,” Pepper said in amusement.  
  
“A man has things he needs to protect, Pep. Cake is one of them,” replied Tony. He scanned the area and stared at one of the waitresses loitering at the next table over, a look of concentration on his face. “Psst! Miss Hall? Psst!” he called at a volume that pretended to be soft but really wasn’t.  
  
The young woman jerked her head up and blinked at him. Tony crooked a finger at her and she approached him warily, unable to think of one reason why the man would be calling for her that would be good. “Yes, Mr. Stark?”  
  
“Hello, Miss Hall,” Tony said pleasantly, with a charming smile. “Do you think you can hunt down some more coffee and then maybe wrangle a couple more desserts from the kitchen? We have a god of thunder here who is looking very forlorn.”  Thor looked nowhere near such but whatever.  
  
The waitress’ lips turned up, smiling despite herself. “I’ll see what I can do,” Hall said, hurrying off.  
  
“I wonder if I can get the chef to give me his recipe?” muttered Tony. “This is really good.” He licked at some frosting on his fork, his pink tongue running up the tines, and he hummed in his throat in pleasure. Steve stared for a long moment and then looked away with an uncomfortable cough. Pepper covered a smile with a sip of coffee and shared an exasperated but fond glance with Natasha.  
  
Someone went trotting up to the platform and everyone in the dining room applauded. Tony put his fork in his mouth and clapped a few times before going back to devouring his cake. “Thank you, everyone,” said the new speaker at the microphone. “New York has persevered through many trials this past year.” Steve stopped listening at that point. He found that listening to the many inspirational and heartfelt speeches since the fight with the Chitauri just made him feel more guilty and depressed. It was just better if he didn’t have to deal with that tonight. (Tony and Natasha had both reassured him many times that this was okay and understandable.)  
  
The waitress, Hall, reappeared with two silver carafes of coffee. “Just leave them on the table, honeycakes. Thank you very much,” said Tony, swallowing his cake quickly. The waitress did as instructed and Pepper passed one of the jugs around to the other side of the table. Bruce fairly snatched it from Clint, nearly taking off a finger.  
  
Hall leaned down so she could talk with Tony without being rude to whoever was speaking up on the platform. “I managed to find a few more desserts,” she said softly. Another waiter was wheeling over a cart as she spoke. “And some vanilla ice cream, if you want it?”  
  
Tony grinned. “Oh, we want it.”  
  
The waitress smiled back and reached around to the cart for a plate of cake. “We don’t have enough for everyone,” she warned.  
  
“We’ll share,” said Tony. Hall nodded and tried to hand him a plate. Tony’s nose wrinkled, his upper body leaning away.  
  
Steve quickly took the plate, setting it down between himself and Tony. “He doesn’t like to be handed things,” he muttered to the confused waitress.  
  
“Ok,” Hall said slowly.  
  
“Thanks!” Tony said brightly. Hall gave a bemused nod and went around the table to hand out the other desserts. Pepper and Bruce shared one while Clint and Natasha shared another. Thor got his own. He was a big boy. He needed the calories.  
  
The waiter who had brought the cart over pulled out a carton of ice cream and set it down on the table. “We can serve ourselves. Thank you,” Pepper said, plucking the scoop from the young man’s fingers. She deftly scooped out two mounds of ice cream and transferred them to Tony’s dessert plate. The entire table was ignoring the stares the rest of the diners were giving them and the annoyed look on the man still yammering up on platform.  
  
“Thanks, Pep!” Tony quickly took a piece of cake and a bit of ice cream on his fork and placed them in his mouth. He hummed in pleasure. He glanced at Steve, who was giving him a fond and indulgent smile. “Come on. Have some,” Tony offered, pushing the plate a little closer to Steve.  
  
Steve shrugged, still smiling. “I don’t have my fork. They took it with my plate.”  
  
Tony gave an exasperated sigh, stabbed a morsel of cake and ice cream, and held the fork up toward Steve. It hung there in the air while Steve stared. “Come on! Before the ice cream melts,” ordered Tony.  
  
“Uh…” Tony glared at him and Steve leaned forward to take the fork into his mouth. Tony pulled it away and Steve chewed, a god-smacked ‘I can’t believe I just did that’ look on his face.  
  
“There. See? No big,” Tony said, looking down quickly. He pushed a raspberry off the cake and into the ice cream, quickly scooping it into his mouth. The fork was filled again and returned to hover in the air.  
  
“Tony, you don’t need to…”  
  
“You and I are sharing this cake and ice cream, buster. Don’t start with me,” snapped Tony with a mock scowl.  
  
Steve chuckled, shaking his head. “Alright, if you insist.” He took the bite off the fork.  
  
Tony smiled. “Good boy,” he praised, taking the next mouthful for himself. The fork returned to the air with a strawberry on it and Steve ate the bite without any fuss this time.  
  
Clint stared across the table, his fork hanging from his fingers in shock. The piece of cake he and Natasha were sharing was abandoned between them. Natasha had somehow gotten ahold of the scoop and was now eating the last of the ice cream directly from the carton. “Are they really feeding each other? Like, from the same fork and plate and everything?” he muttered.  
  
“Yes. Don’t stare. Tony might notice and bristle like a wet cat,” Natasha replied softly, digging at the corners of the carton.  
  
“Does this count as porn?” Natasha rolled her eyes at him. Applause started up again and everyone looked up to watch the man they had been ignoring wave and walk off the platform.  
  
“Any idea who that was?” asked Bruce softly. Clint and Natasha shook their heads.  
  
“This is most boring,” rumbled Thor. “When shall the dancing start?”  
  
“Soon, Thor. Just be patient while the speeches are made,” soothed Pepper. She was tapping on her cellphone, scrolling through messages.  
  
“I’m not eating that,” announced Steve. All of the people at the surrounding tables were staring at the pair, not even pretending to pay attention to the speakers. One lifted a cellphone and started to take a video when the device mysteriously shut down. They smacked it against their palm with a grumble of annoyance, taking off the battery and peering down at it in confusion, the extent of their technological knowledge exhausted.  
  
“I told you it was edible, Steve. Don’t be a big baby,” replied Tony. The fork hung in the air between them, a sugared flower perched on top of some ice cream.  
  
“That doesn’t mean I want to eat it. What is that anyway?”  
  
“A violet. It’s good.”  
  
“Then you eat it.” Tony sighed and put the undesired bite into his own mouth. He filled the fork with cake and ice cream and lifted it again. Steve accepted that without complaint.  
  
“What am I going to do with you?” grumbled Tony with a shake of his head. He ate the next bite with a playful glare at Steve. The diners applauded again as the speaker switched to a new person. Nobody at their table bothered to even look up. Tony offered the last of the cake to Steve and then scooped the last melting glob of ice cream into his own mouth. “Full now,” he announced, letting the fork fall to the plate with a clatter.  
  
The guests were applauding again. “What’s going on now?” asked Steve, squinting up at the stage.  
  
Natasha dropped her lipstick into her clutch and snapped it shut sharply. “The speeches are done. We’re being directed back into the ballroom for dancing and a silent auction.”  
  
“Finally,” said Thor. “Midgardian ceremonies are very dull.”  
  
“I’ve been to worse,” said Clint as everyone stood. He looked at Natasha. “Remember London?”  
  
Natasha gave a delicate shiver. “Don’t remind me.”  
  
“You two have a story for every major city on the planet, don’t you,” Bruce said, gulping the last of his coffee.  
  
“Just about,” replied Clint with a grin.  
  
Tony balled up his napkin and tossed it onto the dessert plate. “Pepper? Shall we show these amateurs how it is done?” he asked, holding his hand out palm up.  
  
Pepper smiled and placed her hand in his. “We shall.” They weaved their way toward the door like a king and queen.  
  
Tony looked back over his shoulder with a smile. “Come on, Steve! This is where the fun starts,” he called. Steve’s answering smile was a little thin but he got up and followed everyone back into the ballroom. The night time city still glittered through the huge windows and the large chandeliers glowed with golden light, heavy lead crystals sparkling high above their heads. A half orchestra was shifting around on a stage, fiddling with their instruments and settling into their seats.  
  
Steve shuffled along the wall as people drifted out onto the dance floor, Tony and Pepper striding out into the middle and turning to face each other. Steve saw Tony say something and Pepper laugh in response. Clint and Natasha walked by him, Natasha glancing at Steve out of the corner of her eye, and out onto the dance floor. Thor accepted the advances of a grey haired old woman, much to Steve’s surprise, and went out onto the dance floor. Bruce had disappeared somewhere like only he could.  
  
“Hello, Captain,” purred a voice nearly in Steve’s ear. If he were a cat, they’d have to peel him off the ceiling. As it was, Steve started and whipped his head around. A fake blond, her hair and eyebrows not exactly matching, in a low cut black dress lounged against the wall next to Steve. “Would you like to dance?”  
  
“Uh,” stammered Steve. “No. No thank you, ma’am.”  
  
The woman pouted. “Really? A cutie pie like you doesn’t want to take a few turns out on the dance floor with me?”  
  
A lone violin sounded, marking the beginning of the dancing, and as the music swelled the dancers on floor began to turn. “I’m sure! Thank you, ma’am!” squeaked Steve before hightailing it through the crowd. He dodged another three women asking him to dance, one of whom pinched his butt, before he washed up against the bar, red faced and utterly mortified.  
  
“What’ll have?” asked one of the barmen.  
  
“A coke, please,” Steve answered, wedging himself between the wall and the bar. At least if anybody else attacked…um…asked him to dance then he’d see them coming. “Just coke,” Steve clarified. The barman shrugged, put ice in a glass, and poured the soda into it. “Thanks.” Steve sipped at his drink and scanned the dance floor. Tony and Pepper were dancing elegantly in the center of the room, looking easy and relaxed. Steve envied them.  
  
Steve didn’t know the song the orchestra was playing, it was something slow and lilting and probably after his time. He watched the dancers turn and loop around the dance floor, his gaze picking out his teammates. Clint was saying something to a serene faced Natasha. Thor was gently turning his elderly dance partner around in circles, as gentle as if he were handling a bird’s egg. Tony was grinning at Pepper as he spun her out and reeled her back in smoothly, as if they had been dancing together forever. Pepper laughed as Tony dipped her. Steve looked down at the melting ice in his drink.  
  
The song changed and Steve glanced up to see that Pepper was now dancing with a grey haired gentleman and Tony was dancing with the fake blond in the black dress that Steve had run away from. Steve sighed and turned away, leaning on the bar and setting his drink down. “Captain America, sir?” piped a high voice behind him. Steve turned begrudgingly and found a small posse of teenage girls giggling softly to each other. One of them pushed a girl forward. “Stop it!” she hissed, blushing.  
  
“Yes?” Steve asked gently. He kept his eyes locked on hers, the plunging line of her dress and bright lipstick and heavy eye shadow on her face making him sigh on the inside.  
  
“Would you like to dance, sir?” asked the girl hesitantly. The group behind her tittered, wide smirks on their faces.  
  
Steve smiled. “I’m sorry. I’m really not looking to dance with anyone this evening. But thank you for the offer.”  
  
“Oh,” said the teen, deflating. “Alright then.” She gave Steve a brave smile and then retreated to her friends. “See! I told you he wouldn’t want to dance with me!” she grumbled as the group moved away.  
  
Steve found himself chuckling a little, turning back to the bar and signaling to the barman. “Another please.” The barman poured more soda into his glass, amusement on his face, and the orchestra started another song. Steve forced himself not to turn around and search for Tony.  
  
The warmth of another body crowded close to Steve’s side and he tensed. “Whiskey on the rocks,” a familiar voice told the barmen.  
  
Steve looked over in surprise. “Shouldn’t you be dancing with some bigwig?” he asked Tony.  
  
The dark haired man made a face. “Only so much mindless chatter and snake oil salesmen routines I can take, Steve. I need a break.” Tony grinned at Steve as the barman poured his drink, prompting Steve to smile back despite himself.  
  
Steve tilted his head down a little. “No too much, okay?” he said, his voice bland.  
  
Tony rolled his eyes, accepting his glass of liquor with a smile and dropping a fifty in the bowl for tips. “I won’t,” he muttered back, turning around to face the dance floor and leaning his back against the bar. He took a sip of his drink, feeling the burn travel down his throat. “Having fun?”  
  
“I suppose,” replied Steve, nursing his soda. He turned and mirrored Tony’s position, leaning back against the bar and staring down at the floor instead of the dancing people in their tuxedos and fancy dresses.  
  
Tony’s gaze drifted across the people on the dance floor and snorted softly. It was like pulling teeth sometimes, geez. “Aren’t you going to dance?” he asked. He knew that Steve had been asked several times but had remained rooted in place since dinner. He leaned forward and cocked his head up so he could meet Steve’s lowered gaze.  
  
Steve’s lips quirked up with an involuntary smile as Tony twisted his head around, eyes drawn to the other man despite himself. “I’m fine where I am. Thanks.”  
  
Tony stood up straight with a huff. “That doesn’t sound like any fun!” He bit his cheek and tapped his foot, eyes scanning the crowd. “Do you want me to call over Pepper?” Tony asked. Steve’s eyes grew wide and his cheeks pinked. Tony scowled a little. “Pepper is a great dancer. Don’t make that face. How about Natasha? Natasha is always willing to take a turn around the dance floor and she’d probably thank you for the break from Clint’s yammering.”  
  
“That’s not… I mean,” Steve stammered. He stopped himself and drew in a deep breath. “I don’t, actually, know how to dance.”  
  
Tony stared at him, a smile flittering around his lips, ready for the joke and to be amused by it but uncertain if laughing was alright at that point. Steve remained blank faced and Tony’s smile slipped away into confusion. “Wait. Seriously?”  
  
“Yes, seriously,” replied Steve tightly. He fidgeted while Tony gaped at him, disbelieving. “Nobody wanted to dance with me, you know, before and then after that it just didn’t seem important anymore. I… Someone was going to teach me but…” Steve trailed off, a lump climbing up his throat at the thought of Peggy.  
  
Tony shook himself. “Yeah, that’s not okay.” He drowned his drink and set the glass on the bar. “We have to do something to rectify that right away. Come on.” Tony grabbed Steve’s elbow and strode purposefully across the room. Steve allowed himself to be dragged because, honestly, just doing what Tony wanted was miles easier than fighting him. Natasha cocked an eyebrow at him as they passed but all Steve could do was shrug in response. Like he had any chance at knowing what was going on in the dark haired man’s genius brain. Tony hauled them over to the broken door to the library, which Steve still felt awful about by the way, and shoved the door open. He pushed Steve inside and turned to point one finger down at the floor. “Stay,” Tony said sharply to Moe, who had followed them. The bodyguard’s eyebrows climbed up his forehead. “Good boy,” praised Tony. He then shoved the door closed in Moe’s face.  
  
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” came the bodyguard’s muffled voice through the door but he remained outside.  
  
The city rose up tall and majestic through the windows of the library, clothed in sparkling lights as only New York at night can be, and the soft lamp light made the room feel mellow and warm. It was also still thankfully empty. “Tony? What are you doing?” asked Steve.  
  
“I am going to teach you to dance,” said Tony determinedly.  
  
Steve shook his head. “Tony,” he said in exasperation. “I do not need you to teach me to dance. It’s not important.” A weight settled in his chest. Peggy and his missed date was a sore spot in his memories and he wished Tony wouldn’t prod at it like this.  
  
“Nope,” Tony replied. “It needs to be done and I can do it. No good having Captain America standing by himself like some wallflower at the school dance. It’s just not right.” Steve cringed as Tony swooped down on him with a steely glint in his eyes but Tony turned aside at the last second to stand beside him instead. “We’ll start with the standard waltz,” Tony announced. He waved down at the floor. “Watch my feet.” Steve dropped his frustrated gaze as instructed and Tony smoothly stepped forward and then to the side, moving in a simple box pattern. “The waltz is done with a 3 count. So, I 2 3. 1 2 3. 1 2 3. Come on, Steve, you too.” Steve hesitantly copied Tony’s movements. “That’s it. Step. Step. Step. 1 2 3. 1 2 3. There you go! You’re getting it!” Steve kept his eyes glued to the floor on either his feet or Tony’s feet as they both followed the box pattern. “Try and look up,” instructed Tony. Steve did, looking at Tony’s smiling face, and promptly stumbled over his own feet. Tony caught his shoulder and laughed. “Okay, maybe a little too fast. Go back to looking at your feet. Come on. 1 2 3. 1 2 3.” Steve returned to the box pattern and almost didn’t notice when Tony spun and was suddenly in front of him, mirroring his steps backwards.  
  
“What are you doing?” Steve asked, quickly glancing up and then back to his feet.  
  
“Well, you can’t dance alone, Cap!” exclaimed Tony. “You’d just look silly.” Steve faltered. “Hey, no. You keep going and I’ll move with you. It’ll be fine. Step. Step. Step. Good. Just like that.” There was about three feet between them but they moved in a simple box waltz across from each other for several minutes.  
  
Steve felt a small smile lift his lips. “This isn’t so bad,” he said.  
  
“Easy as pie. Ready for the next step?”  
  
“I don’t have to look up do I?” teased Steve.  
  
“Nope. Just keep moving and try not to lose the rhythm and step on me.”  
  
“What?” demanded Steve just as Tony stepped forward, suddenly close to him. Tony laid his left hand on Steve’s shoulder and slipped his right into Steve’s hand, lifting it up.  
  
“Keep going. Don’t stop. Look at your feet if you have to,” instructed Tony as Steve kicked his own heel by mistake. “Step. Step. Step. 1 2 3. 1 2 3. Good. Keep going.” Steve stared down between them at their feet, watching as Tony mirrored his steps. “Put your other hand on my side.”  
  
Steve swallowed but did as he was told, settling his right palm on Tony’s hip gently. He could suddenly feel the muscles of Tony’s body as he moved and resolutely stared at the floor while his cheeks grew red. “1 2 3. 1 2 3,” he breathed to distracted himself.  
  
Tony chuckled. “Little higher than that, Steve. Somebody is going to think you’re being fresh.” Tony dropped his hand from Steve’s shoulder and moved the hand at his waist up to the correct position nearer to his shoulder blade. Steve turned bright red. “You’re doing good. Keep it up. Relax,” said Tony calmly. “Okay, next we’re going to add a little turn. When you step back on you left leg, expend the movement so we do a half turn. You’re meant to guide your partner, so pull gently with your left hand and push at my side with your right in the direction of the turn.” Steve tried to do as instructed but Tony stumbled as Steve yanked them around. “Whoa! Gently, Steve. Dancing is not a contact sport.”  
  
“Sorry,” Steve said, mortified.  
  
“Don’t stop. Come on. You were doing good,” coaxed Tony. “Go back to the box step.” Steve returned to the box step, staring down at their feet again. “And when you’re ready, try to turn again. Left foot back and gently around.” Steve moved his foot back and tried to be extra careful when he guided Tony around. The dark haired man followed, stepping forward with his right foot to match Steve. They turned successfully and Steve grinned. “Very good! Just like that, keep turning,” praised Tony.  
  
Steve continued and soon they were moving around in a loose loop. “Am I doing it okay?” Steve asked.  
  
“You’re doing fine,” replied Tony. “Relax and quit squeezing the hell out of my hand.”  
  
Steve jerked his head up and found he was gripping Tony’s right hand hard enough that his fingers were white. He let go. “Sorry!” he yelped. Of course, he missed a step and they stumbled. Tony gasped as Steve trod on his foot. “Sorry!” Steve cried again, springing backward.  
  
Tony laughed. “It’s okay! It was bound to happen. I stepped all over my instructor’s feet when I learned to dance. Relax. It’s fine.” He shook out his foot, tapping his toes on the floor. “No harm done. Come on. We’ll start again.”  
  
“Maybe we should stop,” Steve suggested with an embarrassed frown.  
  
“Oh no! Captain America does not quit! Remember?” teased Tony. He wiggled his fingers at Steve. “Come on. You almost have the hang of it. You just need the practice and then you’ll be spinning around the dance floor with the pretty girl of your choice.” Steve reluctantly allowed Tony to step close again, taking up his hand and settling his palm against the other man’s side. “Box step and then turn. You can do it,” Tony said. Steve began to move and soon they were moving in a looping waltz again.  
  
Steve frowned down at their feet, not daring to look up. “How did you learn to dance the… um…?”  
  
“The girl part?” clarified Tony dryly, moving gracefully in tandem with Steve’s halting steps. Steve nodded and Tony snorted. “Madame de Plume made me learn both when she was my dance instructor. She insisted that if my parents wanted me to be a master dancer that I had to know both how to lead and how to follow.” Steve could hear him roll his eyes. “Thus, you benefit from my torture.”  
  
“You had a French dance instructor?”  
  
“No,” Tony replied with a chuckle. “Anna was from Missouri. She spent six months scamming my parents into thinking she was a highly regarded French dancer before they found out the truth. Dad was furious.”  
  
Steve smiled down at their shoes. “I bet that was it for dance lessons.”  
  
Tony snorted. “I wish. After that, I had to endure a whole month of Mrs. Simmons grabbing my butt before Mom fired her.” He gave a full bodied shudder. “Ugh, that woman must have been the original cougar.”  
  
“Cougar?” Steve asked.  
  
“An older woman who goes after younger men,” explained Tony blandly.  
  
“That must have been fun for teenage you,” Steve said wryly. He could just imagine how a young Tony had loved the attention of an older, more experienced woman.  
  
“I was thirteen.” Steve looked up in surprise, finding Tony looking at him with one cocked eyebrow. “Mrs. Simmons was old enough to be my grandmother, had a bad dye job and it was mostly just gross.”  
  
“You were a child!” cried Steve, his face rearranging itself into a scowl. He barely noticed that he wasn’t looking down at his feet anymore as they spun a lazy waltz around the room.  
  
“Well, not really. But probably too young to have some woman grabbing bits of me while in the middle of the Foxtrot,” Tony said musingly.  
  
“But that’s…!”  
  
“I’m well aware of what it was,” interrupted Tony firmly. “Let’s talk about something else. You’re ruining the mood.”  
  
Steve scowled at Tony. “Thirteen,” he muttered angrily. White hot fury gathered in his chest. How dare that woman…! Steve wondered where this Mrs. Simmons was and if she was still alive. Perhaps Captain America could give her a visit. Maybe Jarvis would know. Jarvis knew most things, after all.  
  
“Squeezing again,” Tony warned casually.  
  
“Sorry,” muttered Steve distractedly, loosening his grip. He stared off somewhere past Tony’s left ear, a stormy look on his face. Tony scanned his face and slowly stepped closer to Steve until his left forearm rested on Steve’s shoulder and his fingers curled into the collar of his jacket. Steve automatically slid his hand around to rest on Tony’s lower back and kept up the steps of the waltz. A delighted, Cheshire cat smile curled Tony’s lips up as they danced, close enough that their chests brushed. Steve looked like he could punch someone but Tony was pleased.  
  
The tempo of the music they could sort of hear through the door changed and sped up. Steve feet, confused, tripped over themselves and Tony stepped back before the other man could stamp on his foot again. “Want to try something a bit faster?” Tony asked, disappointed but smiling to cover it.  
  
“I don’t know,” Steve replied with dubious tone. “I might maim you if we tried anything quicker.”  
  
The door creaked open and Pepper poked her head in. “Tony? You in here?” she called. She paused as she saw the pair of them. Steve took another step away from Tony and the dark haired man gave Pepper a displeased pout while Steve looked away. Pepper grimaced, recognizing that she was interrupting something, but walked toward them anyway. “I was wondering where you were hiding.”  
  
“I wasn’t hiding,” protested Tony.  
  
“Tony was teaching me to dance, Pepper,” Steve said. “Sorry if you were missing him.”  
  
“Pfft, hardly. But, look Steve!” exclaimed Tony. He set his hands on Pepper’s shoulders and turned her toward Steve. “A pretty girl! Now you can practice your mad waltzing skills for real!”  
  
“I don’t know,” Steve hedged as Tony coaxed them toward each other. “I’m not any good yet.”  
  
“You were doing fine! Pep, he’s practically the next Fred Astaire,” Tony argued.  
  
“Tony,” sighed Pepper, exasperated. She gave Steve a sympathetic look as the dark haired man tried to nudge them into position. “We might as well. He’s not going to let up until he gets his way.”  
  
“Nope! Might as well give in now!” crowed Tony with a wide grin.  
  
Steve gave an indulgent smile and let himself be push forward. “I apologize in advance,” he muttered, blushing as he put his hand on Pepper’s side and took up her hand.  
  
Pepper gave him a sweet smile. “I’m sure you’ll do fine.”  
  
“Remember! Step. Step. Step. 1 2 3,” instructed Tony. He then skipped over to one of the leather armchairs and sat down, looking at Steve and Pepper like they were an exciting movie playing in front of him.  
  
Steve took a deep breath and began moving. “1 2 3. 1 2 3. 1 2 3,” he muttered to himself. He alternated between looking down at his feet, afraid he’d trod on Pepper’s dress if not her foot, and trying to look up like he was supposed to.  
  
“You’re not so bad,” Pepper said as they completed their first loop. Steve gave her a pleased smile.  
  
Dancing with Pepper was different than dancing with Tony. She was taller for one thing, especially with heels on. That had to drive Tony nuts. Her hand was softer, without the calluses that Tony’s work gave his hands, and her torso curved softly under Steve’s palm. Pepper’s floral perfume threatened to make Steve sneeze while Tony’s spicy cologne had been pleasant and familiar. She stood farther away from him than Tony had, stiff in a way that the dark haired man hadn’t been. Steve found dancing with Pepper to be nice but not in the same way that dancing with Tony had been nice.  
  
The solider glanced over to where Tony was sitting, expecting the other man to be smirking at them. Instead, Tony had turned to stare out the dark windows, something sad and brooding on his face. Steve frowned. He looked back at Pepper and she gave him a small smile, understanding in her eyes. Steve gave her a little questioning head tilt toward Tony and Pepper nodded slightly. Steve missed his next move and very gently ‘stepped’ on Pepper’s foot. “Ouch!” she dutifully yelped, winking at Steve.  
  
Steve jumped back. “I’m so sorry, Pepper!”  
  
Tony turned his head back toward them and grinned. “Aw, come on Steve! You can’t be stepping on your partner’s feet all the time.”  
  
“I think I need more practice with you before I move on to ladies,” Steve said with a sheepish smile.  
  
“You weren’t so bad, Steve,” said Pepper, trying to control her smile. “A little more practice with Tony and you’ll be fit for the grand ballroom.”  
  
Steve nodded. “Lots and lots of practice,” he agreed. He stepped forward and held a hand out to Tony. “Please?”  
  
Tony blinked, surprised. He stared at Steve’s offered hand from his chair. “Really?” Tony muttered.  
  
“Really. We were doing so well before,” replied Steve, smiling.  
  
“I’ll leave you two boys to it,” announced Pepper, striding toward the door. “Don’t spend all night in here. People will think you ran off eventually.”  
  
“Sure thing, Pepper,” Steve called, his eyes still focused on Tony.  
  
Pepper smiled and yanked the broken library door open. Moe and Larry curiously tried to peek in and Pepper yanked the door closed again sharply. “Nobody but the Avengers enters that room, understand?” she said.  
  
“Yes, ma’am,” replied Kevin. Moe, Larry, and Curly nodded dutifully. Pepper gave the four bodyguards a quick nod and disappeared off into the crowd.  
  
Steve wiggled his fingers at Tony. “Please? I’ll never learn without practice.”  
  
“Okay,” Tony said slowly, placing his hand in Steve’s and stood, still looking a little skeptical.  
  
Steve tugged him away from the chair and placed his right hand back on Tony’s side. “Like this, right?” he asked, gently guiding Tony to step back as he stepped forward. “1 2 3. 1 2 3. 1 2 3.” Steve felt content as Tony placed his left hand on his shoulder. This was more like it; brown eyes instead of blue, dark haired instead of strawberry blond and olive skin instead of pale peach. Steve relaxed, the nervousness he felt with Pepper disappearing. Much better. Steve kept a smile on his face as Tony stared at him, seemingly trying to drill through Steve’s head into his inner thoughts.  
  
Tony looked away first as they completed their first loop around the library floor. “You’re doing much better,” he muttered.  
  
Steve shrugged. “Super solider serum; good for fighting Nazis and waltzing, apparently.” Tony couldn’t help the crooked smile that lifted his lips in amusement. “Should we try something else? I’ve always wanted to do the Lindy Hop. I wasn’t strong enough before and it always looked like such fun.”  
  
“I thought you wanted more practice with the waltz?” Tony said suspiciously.  
  
“This must be boring for you. What if I spin or dip you?”  
  
“Di…!?” Tony yelped as Steve slid his hand around to the small of his back and sort of pushed him back. “Don’t you dare drop me!” Tony snapped, his left hand flying up to grab at the back of Steve’s neck. He cringed, expecting to hit the floor.  
  
“You’d have to be at least ten times heavier than you are for there to be any danger of me dropping you,” Steve said dryly, easily holding the other man in a deep dip. “Am I doing this right?” He was copying what he’d seen dancers do back in the dance halls of his youth but Steve really couldn’t tell one way or another.  
  
“Jesus Christ,” muttered Tony, blowing out a deep breath. He bent one knee and straightened out his other leg like he was supposed to in a dip, instead of the useless tangle they were in trying to catch himself. Steve blinked down at him placidly. Tony relaxed a little as Steve continued to hold him. “Yes, it’s fine,” he answered. “Roll me up on my feet, don’t just yank me up like a dead weight.” Steve did as asked and Tony turned his foot to compensate for Steve’s lack of knowing what the hell he was doing.  “Don’t do that again! Crap, the last time I let someone dip me while dancing I got a concussion. Not something I want to repeat.”  
  
“I’d never drop you,” complained Steve, frowning. “Besides, the next time someone asks you, you can say that the last time someone dipped you while dancing it went fine. That’s something at least.”  
  
“Don’t be cheeky. That’s my job,” retorted Tony.  
  
“Teach me something besides the waltz,” Steve demanded.  
  
“Well,” drawled Tony. “I supposed I can teach you the easiest dance technique in the world.”  
  
“Easiest? That sounds good.”  
  
“Alright then.” Tony took his right hand out of Steve’s hold and placed it on his shoulder. He stepped a little closer so that his forearms rested on Steve’s shoulders and his hands slipped up around his neck. “Put your hands on my waist,” instructed Tony. Steve stood frozen, eyes wide. “Hands. On. My. Waist.” Steve dropped his hands and placed them on Tony’s hips, standing wooden in the dark haired man’s hold. “Very good. Now, just, kind of, shuffle from side to side and turn in place a little.” Tony began to sway his hips and Steve’s face turned red, feeling the shift of his pelvis under his palms. “Come on, Steve. Move a little,” encouraged Tony, lightly pulling on the short hair at the back of Steve’s neck.  
  
Hesitantly, Steve began to sway gently as Tony was doing. “What do they call this?” he croaked.  
  
Tony chuckled. “They don’t call it anything, I think. This is the dance of awkward teenagers and uncoordinated people everywhere. Should be right up your alley.”  
  
“I’m not that bad!” complained Steve.  
  
Tony’s smile gentled and turned soft. “No. You’re not that bad,” he agreed quietly. Steve gave him a confused look and Tony looked away. They swayed gently together, standing closer than they had while waltzing.  
  
Steve felt warmth bleed across between them, his whole front growing warm. His head dipped down, seemingly out of his control, and he breathed in the familiar scent of Tony’s cologne that he’d missed so much while dancing with Pepper. They drifted closer together, their heads nodding near. Steve could feel Tony’s moist breath brush along his jaw and past his ear. He blinked and jerked his head up. Tony searched his face from the corner of his eye and Steve gave an embarrassed cough. He didn’t know what was wrong with him. “So, are you going to teach me the Lindy Hop next?” Steve asked, desperate to lighten the mood.  
  
Tony snorted, turning his head to look at Steve fully. “Not on your life. I like my toes unbroken, thank you. You’d probably…” The door to the library flew open, banging back against the wall. Tony yelped and both he and Steve jumped.  
  
“Friends!” exclaimed Thor. “There you are. Come! Clint is about to announce the Dance of the Square!”  
  
“Dance of the...? You mean square dancing?” asked Tony. “Oh, hell yes. That shit will be hilarious. Steve, let me go. This is undignified.”  
  
Steve blushed, having wrapped his arm around Tony’s waist when the door banged open and lifted him against his side. Steve’s free arm was raised, as if he were holding his shield up to protect them. “Sorry,” he muttered, letting Tony slip out of his grasp.  
  
Tony grabbed Steve’s hand before he could retreat too far and dragged him forward. Thor withdrew from the doorway as they left the library. “How drunk is Clint?” demanded Tony as they reached the ballroom. The bodyguards straightened from their slouches against the wall as Tony appeared.  
  
Up on the stage, Clint had somehow gotten ahold of a microphone. “No no! Come on! It’s heel, toe, heel, toe, and then turn! Honestly, I could do this in my sleep!” the archer slurred at a roomful of confused society people and a gaggle of excited younger gala attendees that were trying to follow Clint’s instruction and failing miserably. In center of the room, having lost their heels somewhere, Pepper and Natasha were doing a flawless example of the dance, turning gracefully in their stockings. Several violin players were sawing off a screechy country tune.  
  
“Ha! The Electric Slide!” exclaimed Tony. Thor perked up and Tony shook his head at him. “Not that type of electric. Do not explode the light bulbs, Thor. It will come out of your Poptart budget.” Thor wilted.  
  
“The what?” asked Steve, confused.  
  
“It’s square dancing! Cultural dance of rednecks everywhere!” exclaimed Tony. He hauled Steve across the dance floor with a huge grin. “It’s fun! Just copy what everyone else is doing.” Steve grinned back and allowed Tony to tug him into the crowd. He didn’t see how he could do anything else but follow where Tony led.


	4. Chapter IV

The night was finally over with. Natasha and Clint had slipped off somewhere; Steve wasn’t worried, he knew that the two SHIELD agents could get themselves back to the Tower without help. Besides, they still got twitchy being out in public too much. Bruce had left about an hour earlier, looking wan and tired. Tony had patted his shoulder and sent him back home with Thor as an escort. It was not a good idea to force Bruce to continue to socialize when he became fatigued. There was only so much forced cheerfulness and calm a person could maintain before they just wanted to go home and fall into bed.   
  
Steve braced his arm across the elevator doors as his group piled inside, keeping them from closing on anybody. Tony and Pepper were both engrossed with their cellphones again. “Yates,” Tony growled in frustration. He was tapping furiously on the little screen. “Pepper, remind me to fire Yates in the morning.”  
  
“Sure Tony,” muttered Pepper distractedly, frowning at her own cell. Kevin and the bodyguard Tony had named Moe wedged themselves into the corners of the elevator. Kevin waved his hand and Larry and Curly turned away, heading off down the hallway. Steve let the elevator doors close and Pepper jabbed her thumb into the button for the basement. “I can’t wait to get home. My feet are killing me,” the redhead said.  
  
“Stop wearing four inch heels and your feet probably would stop hurting,” said Tony, not even looking up.  
  
“If you didn’t make me chase you all over, my feet wouldn’t be hurting!” Tony grinned, brown eyes wicked as he glanced at Pepper. She huffed at him and slapped the back of her hand across his bicep. Tony yelped and rubbed at his arm, pouting. Steve smiled at their antics.  
  
“What about you, Cap? Have a good time?” asked Tony.  
  
Steve’s smile slanted with embarrassment, remembering the scene in the library and then the dancing. “It was certainly interesting.”  
  
“I hope Clint does Tweet about my not-kidnapping,” exclaimed Tony, a manic glee crossing his face. “If only because I want to see Fury’s reaction!”  
  
Steve shook his head fondly. “Social media is evil.” Facebook was all about annoying games and Steve didn’t understand the purpose of Twitter. Why would anybody want to know what he had for breakfast? It was bizarre.  
  
“Amen!” said Pepper with feeling.   
  
The elevator dinged open on the banquet center’s underground garage and they exited. A limo waited in front of the elevator with four men loitering around in the same nondescript black suits Steve had seen the security people wearing all night. Tony barely glanced up at them before going back to fiddling with his cell. Steve was just glad they wouldn’t have to fight their way past any crowds waiting on the street and smiled in greeting. Tony shut his cell with a snap. “Sorry, Pep,” he said brightly. Pepper looked at him in confusion before Tony put a hand on her stomach and shoved her backwards hard. With a yelp she stumbled back into Moe and they both fell to the floor of the elevator. The door closed and the carriage began to raise, the lighted numbers flashing.  
  
“Tony!” exclaimed Steve, surprised. A chiming noise rose from Kevin’s jacket pocket and the elder bodyguard cursed, pulling his gun. Steve blinked as the men around the limo began to rush forward, their own weapons appearing.  
  
“Steve, down!” shouted Tony, ducking to the side and behind Kevin. Steve felt his mind kick into gear, shaking off his shock. They were being attacked, he needed to move. Steve grabbed the arm of the man rushing him and flung him up and over his shoulder. A gun shot went off, hitting concrete. Kevin stepped into the lunge of another attacker, his fist plowing into the man’s stomach. Tony spun away from his own opponent, Steve noted with pride, sweeping their feet out from under them in a move that Natasha had spent weeks teaching him. Another gun went off, hitting metal with a clang and denting the doors to the elevator.  
  
Steve knew this fight would be short. There were only four of them and they obviously hadn’t thought Steve would be there. They were more than evenly matched. Then an explosion went off next to Steve’s ear and pain ripped across his forehead. Light flashed brightly in front of his eyes and Steve fell, landing hard and ungracefully on his hands and knees. He heard Tony shout and then a second pain bloomed on the back of Steve’s head and the concrete floor rushed up at his face. Everything went dark.

(**)

  
  
Steve woke to gentle swaying and pain. He was lying down, something warm but firm under his neck. His head hurt, a sharp stinging across his temple and a vague throbbing soreness everywhere else. The pain of a head injury was familiar to him. Steve combed through his muddled memories, keeping his eyes closed. Had the Avengers been in a fight? Where was his team? Was everyone safe?  
  
Something pressed against the burning at his temple and Steve fought not to wince. Gentle fingers touched his jaw. “Steve? Hey, can you hear me?” Memory slotted into place like blocks and Steve squinted his eyes open. Tony leaned over him, suit rumpled, hair a mess, and with a red mark on his cheek that would bloom into a lovely bruise eventually but otherwise unharmed. The dark haired man gave a relieved smile. “There you are. I was starting to think you’d sleep through the whole adventure.”  
  
Steve’s head lay in Tony’s lap, where the other man was carefully using his tie to dab at the blood on Steve’s temple. The unremarkable ceiling of the limo swayed above them. “Where are we?” Steve muttered.  
  
“The New Jersey Turnpike, I think. The Lincoln Tunnel was a while ago,” replied Tony.  
  
“What’s happening?” Steve asked, already knowing the answer.  
  
Tony grinned. “It’s your first kidnapping, Steve! Congratulations!” he said brightly.  
  
“Lovely.” Steve pushed away Tony’s hand where he was still dabbing at his bloody temple. “Just leave it alone,” he muttered. The gun had gone off practically in his face. Steve’s eyes were gritty and his ears still rang slightly but it was already fading. He hated to think what would have happened to someone without the super solider serum. “Where’s Kevin?” Tony’s eyes darkened and he looked over at the other side of the limo. Steve twisted his head around to see what he was looking at and then forced himself into a sitting position with a grunt. “Who are you?”  
  
The two men sitting on the other side of the limo had matching bland expression on their faces. “Who we are is unimportant, Captain. It is rather who you are and what you can do for us that matters in this situation,” said the man on the right.  
  
Steve sighed. His head hurt and he was annoyed. He didn’t have the patience for this crap. “Why did you kidnap us?”  
  
“We must admit that we were not expecting you, Captain,” said the man on the left. Steve thought as much. “Your presence here is a bit of a bonus in addition to our main target.”  
  
Steve turned to Tony and cocked an eyebrow. The engineer looked sheepish. “Sorry to involve you in my kidnapping, Steve. These things really do have the worst timing,” Tony said apologetically.  
  
“It’s fine,” Steve said blandly. “So, what are you going to do with us?” he asked the two men.  
  
“Mr. Stark is going lend us the favor of his knowledge and expertise in weapons making,” replied the guy on the right. Steve decided to call him Thing One since he spoke first.  
  
“Not going to happen,” singsonged Tony in a snotty voice.  
  
“Then I’m afraid the dear Captain’s stay with us will be very unpleasant indeed,” said Thing Two calmly.  
  
Steve blinked and shot Tony a surprised look. “Are your kidnappers usually this idiotic?”  
  
Tony sighed. “About 95% of them, yes. It really is depressing. You would think they’d learn by now. Did you know that somebody actually tried to shove me in a van a week and a half ago! Where have all the quality kidnappers gone?”  
  
Steve frowned deeply. “Somebody tried to shove you in a van? Why did I not hear about this before now?”  
  
“Pfft. Happy beat the ever loving shit out of them and then Fury disappeared them into the bowels of SHILED. It was barely a blip,” dismissed Tony. Thing One and Thing Two were looking more and more disgruntled as their victims continued to talk.  
  
“This is the type of thing I need to be told when it happens, Tony. As leader, everyone’s security is very important to me. This should have been dealt with…”  
  
“Blah. Blah. Blah. Steve, it was fine. No reason to go all protective den mother on me. I even got to use that hand choppy thing Clint was showing us. It was awesome.”  
  
“That’s beside the point, Tony. When things happen I want to be told so that we can discuss them as a team.”  
  
“Oh god! If the words ‘family meeting’ come out of your mouth I will throw myself from the limo.”  
  
“We should all be so lucky.” Tony gave an indignant squawk in protest.  
  
“I don’t think you two are giving the situation you are in the respect it deserves,” Thing One said icily.  
  
Steve and Tony blinked at them and then at each other. “No. No. I think we are giving the situation the exact amount of respect it deserves. Don’t you, Steve?” asked Tony.  
  
“I think so, Tony,” agreed Steve. Something thumped on top of the limo and the vehicle jerked a little. “You see, you gentlemen seem to have made a mistake,” Steve continued, voice dropping into the cold depths. The kidnappers glanced nervously up at the roof. “You seem to think you have successfully kidnapped us. In reality, you have simply managed to piss off a group of highly skilled and very dangerous people.”  
  
“This, in case you needed it to be pointed out to you, is a very, very bad thing. For you,” Tony said with a dark smile. There was a crack from the roof and a small metal point punched through the thin metal. Tony took a deep breath and slapped his hands over his mouth just as the arrowhead bloomed gently apart and released a sickly yellow gas into the limo.  
  
Steve grabbed Tony and slid away into the corner, as far away from the gas as possible. He pulled the engineer into his lap and Tony hid his face against Steve’s shoulder, desperately trying not to breathe in. The knockout gas Tony had developed for Clint’s arsenal was potent. All it did was make Steve slightly dizzy and leave a bad taste in the back of his throat but one breath of it by a normal human and they were out like a light. Already Thing One and Thing Two were slumped over in their seats, drooling.  
  
There was a familiar roar and the entire limo bucked, the back end jackknifing into the air as the vehicle slammed to a stop. The two kidnappers went sailing to the floor. Steve cursed as they bounced, keeping a strong hold on Tony. The dark haired man gasped in surprise and went limp with a little cough, the gas knocking him out. Steve growled and used his foot to kick out the window across from them. They needed fresh air. The glass shattered outward, revealing the highway outside and the fierce lightening dancing across the dark sky.  
  
Steve tensed as the door was yanked open but relaxed as Natasha stuck her head in, one of the elegant breathing masks Tony had designed for them over her mouth and nose. Her eyes swept over them and then something in her face eased. She then grabbed Thing Two and dragged his unconscious body from the limo. Steve shifted as Natasha removed both of the kidnappers from the limo and he was able to slide around the seat and get out. He lifted Tony into his arms, the engineer unconscious.  
  
“Man, we can’t take our eyes off of you two for a second!” teased Clint over the sound of SHIELD agents shouting orders and the sirens of police cars. He looked odd in his suit pants and dress shirt and no jacket, quiver strapped over his shoulder. Hulk squatted in front of the limo, breathing in loud snorts and grumbles. The hood of the limo was crushed in, two large dents made by two huge green fists. Off to the side Thor was coming in for a landing, the storm overhead beginning to calm.  
  
Coulson appeared out of the chaos and touched Steve’s shoulder lightly to get his attention. “This way, Captain.” Steve followed the agent as Coulson calmly cut a path toward a waiting ambulance, carrying Tony in his arms. The soldier could practically hear the rant Tony would give about not being a princess, no matter what Clint said, and not to carry him like that, it was undignified and he wasn’t a blushing bride for fuck’s sake. But Tony hated being tossed over someone’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes just as much, complaining his abdomen hurt afterward from having someone’s bony shoulder digging into his stomach. Steve smirked as he hopped up into the ambulance and carefully laid Tony out on the waiting gurney. He then sat himself down and refused to move despite the EMT’s asking to check him over or to please leave the ambulance. Coulson stationed himself at the ambulance’s open doors while an oxygen mask was slipped over Tony’s face.  
  
Near the limo, Steve could see Hulk shrinking down into Bruce, a junior agent rushing over with sweatpants and a shirt. Steve wondered what had happen to the suit Bruce had been wearing. He hoped the other man had gotten the chance to change out of it before transforming. One of the EMT’s was prodding at Tony’s bruised cheek when the dark haired man came awake. Steve gently caught his wrist before he could clonk the poor woman in the face with his flailing. “Tony, stop. It’s okay. The others came for us. We’re safe,” he said soothingly. Tony blinked owlishly up at him and then his nose scrunched up. He pawed at the mask on his face. “Leave it alone.” Steve pushed Tony’s hands away.  
  
“Steve? Tony?” asked Bruce in concern, climbing into the ambulance.  
  
“Sir, please, you can’t…” began the EMT. Coulson interrupted her and urged the woman out so Bruce could take her place. She did so with a deep frown.  
  
Tony struggled to sit up and Bruce reached around to jerk the gurney into an upright position. “I’m fine,” Tony whined, muffled by the oxygen mask. He squinted in the bright light. They all knew that anyone knocked out by the gas woke up with a splitting headache. Bruce grabbed a pair of gloves and a penlight, leaning over his teammate to flash the beam into Tony’s eyes. “I’m fine!” insisted Tony, twisting his head away.  
  
“I know you’re fine, if a little grumpy,” soothed Bruce with easy practice. Tony glared at him. “But you’ve also been in a Hulk induced car wreck and been knocked out by that damn gas. So forgive me if I don’t want to check you over a little. Indulge me.”  
  
“I’m fine. Steve was there. He wasn’t going to let anything happen to me,” Tony said, huffing as Bruce wrapped a blood pressure cuff around his upper arm. “Bruce, come on,” he grumbled uselessly.  
  
Steve fought down a pleased smile, feeling extremely satisfied that Tony knew the soldier would look after him. “Captain?” Steve looked over and accepted the bottle of water and blister pack of Advil Coulson was offering him. “Steve,” Coulson said quietly before he could turn away. “You should probably wash your face.”   
  
Steve glanced at his reflection in the silver chrome of the ambulance walls and winced. The right side of his face was covered in dried blood from the gash on his forehead. The wound on his temple was already scabbed over from his accelerated healing and Steve grabbed a wet wipe to scrub at his cheek and ear. No wonder the EMT wanted to look at him. “Tony, here,” he said, offering the dark haired man the water and medicine.  
  
Tony’s look wasn’t quite as pinched now that Steve had cleaned up. “Steve, you are a prince among men,” he praised. He slipped the oxygen mask off and downed the pills with a gulp of water.  
  
Bruce rolled his eyes. “You’re fine,” he announced. They all paused as Natasha appeared at the ambulance entrance, scanned all of them with dark eyes, and then disappeared again. “You’re going to have a lovely bruise but your cheekbone isn’t broken,” Bruce continued as if nothing had happened. “Let me know if your jaw hurts or starts clicking.”  
  
“Or if I start getting dizzy, nauseous, or anything else. I know the drill, Bruce. Now check out Steve. He was the one that got pistol whipped in the back of the head,” said Tony.  
  
Bruce frowned at the blond. Steve raised his hands in a surrender position. “I’m fine. I swear.”  
  
“I’m sure. Sit and lean forward,” Bruce said, pulling on a new pair of gloves.  
  
“Drink your water, Tony,” muttered Steve, sitting and hunching forward so Bruce could poke at the back of his skull. Tony sipped as Bruce parted Steve’s hair and carefully checked the area for any skull fractures.   
  
“Any tenderness?” asked the doctor.  
  
“A little,” admitted Steve, flinching as the other man prodded a sensitive spot.  
  
Tony let the half empty water bottle fall to the bed and crawled to the end while the other two were occupied. “Psst! Agent?”  
  
The SHIELD agent, standing just outside the ambulance and all of four feet away from Tony, looked up with a mildly irritated look on his face. “Yes, Stark?” he asked with fake calm.  
  
Tony mouth creased. “Is Happy okay? And Kevin? Did they get to him in time?” the engineer demanded. There was no way that Happy would have given up the limo without a fight and Tony couldn’t forget the grunt of pain Kevin had given as their attackers shot him just before Tony was overwhelmed.  
  
Coulson’s face fell into true calm and lifted his tablet to tap on its surface. “Mr. Hogan was found in a utility closet in the garage, beaten and unconscious. He suffered a broken arm and a concussion. He was taken to the hospital and has already woken, demanding to know where you are. Ms. Potts is with him now. Mr. Mahome was found by the rest of your security team and taken to the hospital. He is undergoing surgery to remove the bullet from his right shoulder. His doctors say that he should make a complete recovery. Both men should be fine.”  
  
Tony relaxed. “Good,” he sighed. They were both going to hover like mama eagles after this, much to Tony’s annoyance, but at least they were going to be okay. He glanced around the highway and the large amount of SHIELD agents swarming over it. In the distance, he could see where traffic had been stopped. Thor’s lightening was still flashing across the sky, revealing the god’s agitation. It was really windy, the gusts pulling at everyone’s clothing. Tony frowned, taking in Coulson’s seemingly guard like position in front of the ambulance. He and Steve were fine. Shouldn’t they be going? What were they waiting for? “Hey, we’re kind of holding up traffic here, literally. Is something wrong? Why aren’t we clearing out?”  
  
Coulson’s shoulders stiffened. “The man from the front passenger side of the limo escaped. Hawkeye and Black Widow are attempting to subdue him.”  
  
“What?” snapped Steve, lifting his head and pushing Bruce’s hands away.  
  
“Really?” Tony asked. “Even with the Big Guy pancaking the front like that?” Gun shots suddenly rang out followed by yelling and Tony found himself staring at the ambulance doors as Coulson slammed them shut. “What the hell!” cried Tony. He then gave a surprised yelp as the vehicle bucked.  
  
Steve had been on his feet the second the shots sounded and he flailed as the ambulance shook. Bruce grabbed onto the shelving with a grunt, medical supplies flying off. They could hear some sort of roaring going on outside, like a jet engine. “What is going on?” demanded Steve. He snatched at Tony and Bruce as the vehicle bounced again and then heaved up over onto its side. They all landed on their backs against what had been the wall. Steve quickly jammed his feet against the gurney before it could fall on them. A cabinet crashed down, thankfully missing them. They all panted as medical supplies fluttered around them. “You guys okay? Tony? Bruce?” asked Steve.  
  
Bruce was breathing deeply and rhythmically to Steve’s right. Tony sat up, knocking away some boxes of gauze, carefully crawling over Steve’s stomach to reach Bruce. “Hey, Bruce,” Tony said gently. Steve remained silent; Tony was the best at calming the Hulk down and it was best just to let the engineer do his thing. “You okay? Of course you are. This was nothing. Just a little bump. Remember the time when that chemical mixture exploded in your face? That was funny. Well, funny to me. I think even Jarvis laughed at that. You looked ridiculous, with soot all around your face. Like a badly painted raccoon. The lab smelt like cheese for a week. We could never figure out why either.” Tony continued to ramble, settling close enough to Bruce not to touch but for the other man to feel the warmth from his body. Something banged against the ambulance outside and Tony exchange a worried look with Steve. The Hulk did not like to wake up in small spaces and if Bruce lost it while inside the vehicle then the green creature would probably come up swinging, as they say. The Big Guy might not want to, but Tony and Steve would probably be hurt if the Hulk tore the ambulance to pieces with them inside it.   
  
Thankfully, Bruce’s breathing slowly eased and his shoulders relaxed. “I’m okay,” he croaked eventually.  
  
Tony reached out and rubbed at his arm. “You did awesome,” he muttered.  
  
“Are either of you hurt?” asked Steve.  
  
“Bumps and bruises,” replied Bruce, sitting up shakily.   
  
“Same. I added to my collection of black and blue but I’m okay,” Tony answered. There was a bang against the doors and they all tensed.   
  
The bottom doorway fell open, thumping against the ground, and Clint ducked down to look inside. “Everybody okay?” he asked tersely.  
  
“We’re all in one piece,” Steve replied, relieved to see his teammate.  
  
“Geez, we really can’t take our eyes off of you,” muttered Clint. He gestured to them. “Come on, the engine is sputtering. We should get out of here.” Carefully, Bruce crawled over Steve and Clint helped him out of the ruined vehicle. Tony went next but paused half way over Steve’s torso to lean down and place a big smacking kiss on his mouth. Steve blinked up at him, slack jawed.  
  
“This date was horrible,” complained Tony, continuing his way to the door. “I’ve been not-kidnapped and real-kidnapped and shaken around like a can of peanuts. I’m not used to this sort of treatment. Is this how you treat a guy? Disgraceful! You owe me a real date and there better be no guns next time, Steven Rogers!” He popped out of the door and stood, giving a surprised Bruce an unimpressed look. “I haven’t even gotten a proper kiss! Honestly, what is the world coming to?”  
  
“Come on, Romeo. Wipe that stupid grin off your face and let’s skedaddle,” called an amused Clint.   
  
Steve started and stopped smiling dreamily up at his feet. He heaved the gurney off to the side and crawled out of the ambulance. The highway was still swarming with SHIELD agents and this was really not where Steve wanted to have this conversation but he really didn’t have a choice. He caught Tony’s arm gently. “Was this really a date?” he asked, trying to keep the hope out of his voice.  
  
“What?” snapped Tony, pulling away and folding his arms across his chest. “The dancing didn’t tip you off? Too subtle?” He glared off somewhere over Steve’s left shoulder, unable to meet the blond’s eyes. Steve couldn’t control another grin and stepped into Tony’s personal space. Tony’s glare broke apart into uncertainty. “Steve? What…?” He was cut off as Steve leaned down and kissed him, a simple pressure of lips. Tony froze in shock. Steve lifted his arms and ran his palms over Tony’s shoulders and up to cup around his neck, tilting the dark haired man’s head and deepening the kiss. Tony shivered, reaching forward to wrap his arms around Steve’s waist. Steve noted that Tony tasted like the wine from dinner and just a hint of metal. “Ow!” Tony yelped suddenly, jerking his head back.  
  
Steve pulled his hands away from where his thumbs were stroking across Tony’s cheeks, including the bruised one. “Sorry,” he said with a wince. Steve smiled hesitantly. “Do you want to…um…” What did people in the 21st century do for dates? “Do you want to go get some coffee with me some time?”  
  
Tony laughed, he couldn’t help it. Steve was just too cute. “Sure thing, Steve. Coffee sounds…uh…swell.” They both chuckled, stepping close to each other with little smiles.  
  
“Alright,” Clint called, startling the two lovebirds. The area was suspiciously quiet. “Who had the kidnapping square? Sitwell? Sitwell, I think you had the kidnapping square.”  
  
“Does this not also count for the injury square?” asked Coulson.  
  
“I think that square stated ‘serious injury’,” replied Natasha, actually using finger quotes in the air. “I don’t think some bruises count.”  
  
“I do not understand the games you play,” complained Thor with a big frown. “Is not our friend’s first kiss a dishonorable thing to wager about?”  
  
“What are you all talking about?” Steve asked, confused.  
  
Tony cuddled himself up under Steve’s arm, perfectly willing to demand attention when he wanted it. “I think there was some sort of betting pool going on about what traumatic event would cause us to get together,” Tony answered. He stuck his nose in Steve’s shoulder and breathed deeply, smelling Old Spice and leather.  
  
“There was a betting pool about us?” exclaimed Steve, not even noticing when he wrapped his arm around Tony’s shoulders.  
  
“There is a betting pool about everything in SHIELD, Steve,” Natasha said. “Your awkward preteen courting is hardly the most scandalous thing we’ve ever bet about.”  
  
“Oi! No need to be insulting!” cried Tony.  
  
“I am merely happy that our friends are unharmed and have been returned to us,” Thor said loudly, clearly done with what he saw as a foolish conversation.  
  
“Who know it would be Thor that would understand the concepts of personal and private,” groused Bruce with a meaningful look at the SHEILD agents.  
  
“It’s no use, Doc,” Clint said. “I had my ability to feel shame and remorse surgically removed years ago. Trying to guilt trip me won’t work.”  
  
“What happened anyway? It sounded like a tornado touched down on the highway,” asked Tony.  
  
“The man in the passenger seat of the limo was a mutant,” replied Natasha, sounding supremely unimpressed. “Some sort of wind power.”  
  
“Professor Xavier has already been contacted. His students should arrive soon to escort him back to the school,” stated Coulson.  
  
“Thor was pissed,” Clint exclaimed with a huge grin. “You should have seen him zap the guy with his lightening. He lit up like a Christmas tree.”  
  
“This … mutant… was very unsporting in his use of his abilities,” Thor said in disapproval, stumbling over the unfamiliar word.  
  
“Well, if the X-Men are going to handle it then there is no reason for Tony and I to stick around,” announced Steve tightly. “Phil, if you could point us to a car that can take us back to the Tower I would be very grateful.”  
  
“I’ll see what I can do, Captain,” replied Coulson, turning on his heel and disappearing.  
  
“Aw, don’t you want to stay and talk with old One Eye?” Tony teased Steve.  
  
“No, I do not.” The last time Steve had had words with Scott Summers they had lost a sofa and gained a hole in the wall. “I want to go home and cuddle.” Clint made an exaggerated choking noise while Tony actually turned a little red.  
  
“Well!” said Tony overly brightly. “That was probably the shortest and least entertaining kidnapping I’ve ever had to put up with. I’m calling this night a bust.”  
  
“I don’t know. It wasn’t all bad,” Clint said. Natasha looked at him darkly and the archer shrugged. “The food was good and there was cake. Any evening with cake can’t be all bad.” Natasha turned sharply and stormed off without a word. “Oh come on!” cried Clint, following her. “You know you agree with me.”  
  
Coulson returned and told Tony and Steve that he had found them a car to take them home. “I need to call Pepper and Jarvis,” Tony complained as they neared the car. “But those fuckers smashed my phone.” Coulson wordlessly handed him a cell and Tony quickly began to tap a number out on the screen.  
  
“Thank you,” muttered Steve as he helped Tony into the back seat of the car. Coulson nodded and shut the door after Steve was seated. “Back to Avengers Tower, please.” The incredibly young looking SHIELD agent in the driver’s seat nodded and guided the car away from the incident site.  
  
“Pepper?” Tony spoke into the phone. Relief clouded his voice and he slumped against Steve’s side. Steve lifted his arm and wrapped it around Tony’s shoulders. “Hey, Pepper-pot. Are you ok? I didn’t hurt you when I pushed you into the elevator, did I?” Tony chuckled at Pepper’s response. “I’m sorry. I’ll buy you a new pair. How’s Happy?” Tony frowned as he listened and Steve rubbed his hand up and down his arm. “And Kevin?” Tony asked. His frown deepened into a scowl.  
  
“Are they alright?” Steve muttered, concerned.  
  
“Just sec, Pep.” Tony took the cell away from his ear. “They’re both fine. Happy has a cast on his left arm and is giving the nurses hell about leaving. Kevin is still in recovery after surgery but it went well and he should wake up soon. Pepper broke a heel because I’m a big meanie, her words, but she’s fine too.”  
  
“That’s good,” replied Steve.  
  
Tony put the cell back to his ear. “Hmm? Yes, he’s here with me. We’re both fine.” Tony lifted his free hand and cupped Steve’s cheek, turning his head to get a better look at his temple. The gash and powder burn had already healed and Tony gently brushed at the dried blood caught at Steve’s hairline. “Thank God for the serum,” Tony muttered quietly, his eyes troubled. Steve laid his own hand over Tony’s and turned his head to press a kiss to his palm. Tony smiled. “Yes, Pepper. I promise. The other Avengers came for us. It didn’t take very long. Yes. No! I swear!” The dark haired man huffed and Steve chuckled. “We’re going straight back to the Tower, Pepper. We will be fine.” A yawn interrupted Tony and Steve glanced at the clock on the car bash board. It was just past three in the morning. The driver quickly jerked his gaze away from where he had been watching them in the rearview mirror.  
  
“Can I talk to her?” Steve asked.  
  
“Pep? Steve wants to talk with you. Hold on.” Tony handed him the cell with a disgruntled look and cuddled into Steve’s shoulder.  
  
“Pepper?” Steve said into the phone.  
  
“Steve? Are you really okay? I know how Tony can get. He blows off injuries like they’re nothing even if he’s bleeding to death!” Pepper’s voice was quick and tense, the stress clearly evident.  
  
“Tony is fine, Pepper. A little banged up and tired but unharmed despite our adventure.”  
  
“Ok. Ok.” Steve heard Pepper take in a deep breath and then blow it out. It whistled across the phone line. “I believe you. Geez, what a night.”  
  
“Everything ended well, Pepper.”  
  
“Steve, I want to thank you for being there to protect Tony. I… We don’t know what we would do if he disappeared again,” said Pepper softly.  
  
Steve glanced down at Tony, curled against his side and breathing evenly in sleep. It had been a long night. “It was entirely my pleasure and honor, Pepper, I assure you,” he muttered back, settling Tony more comfortably with his arm around his waist.  
  
“You’ll see him home safely?”  
  
“You know I will.”  
  
“Okay. Thank you, Steve. Really. Can you give the phone back to Tony now?”  
  
“He’s fallen asleep, Pepper. I’d prefer not to wake him if I don’t have to.”  
  
Pepper chuckled warmly. “Anything to get out of a scolding. Alright, let him sleep. I’ll see you in the morning?”  
  
“Of course. I’ll see that he gets settled safely,” replied Steve.  
  
“Good. Thank you again, Steve. Goodnight.”  
  
Steve echoed Pepper’s farewell and pressed the end button on the barrowed cellphone. He looked down at where Tony was slumped against his side and smiled softly. It would take them a couple more minutes to reach the Tower. The driver kept glancing back at them in the rearview mirror but Steve ignored it. Steve punched in a phone number he knew well. He put the cellphone up to his ear and listened to it click directly over to voicemail. “Hey! You’ve reached the fabulous Tony Stark,” came Tony’s cheeky recorded voice. “I’m probably busy being a genius right now. So, leave a message if you like and I might get back to. Maybe. Probably not.”  
  
Steve rolled his eyes, curling his arm more firmly around Tony’s waist as the cell beeped. “Jarvis? It’s Steve Rogers. I’m hoping you can get this since Tony said his cellphone was broken but I wanted to…” There was a loud click over the line and Steve paused.   
  
“Captain Rogers?”  
  
Steve smiled at the voice of the AI. Tony had wanted to call both Pepper and Jarvis and Steve had taken a guess that the AI would still be moderating Tony’s calls even if the cell was trashed. “Yeah, Jarvis. It’s me.”  
  
“Passcode?” demanded Jarvis primly.  
  
Steve reminded himself it wasn’t really paranoia if they were really out to get you. “Rogers-1-9-Charlie-Alpha-Papa-4-2-Capsicle.” He pressed a kiss into Tony’s hair with an amused smile.  
  
“Passcode accepted, Captain. Is Sir alright? I’ve lost sight of you now that you’re in the car.”  
  
“You’ve been tracking us?”  
  
“I hacked the surveillance system of the hotel garage the moment Sir sent his panic alert. I informed the other Avengers and SHIELD of what had happened and then began tracking the limo using street cameras and business security systems,” explained Jarvis.  
  
Ah. Then they had the AI to thank for their quick rescue. “Thanks, Jarvis. Tony is fine. A bit bruised and worse for wear but not too badly,” Steve said.  
  
“And yourself, Captain?”  
  
“I’m fine. I’m a bit harder to break.” Steve ducked down to look up at the Tower through the car window. “We’re almost home, Jarvis. Could you let us into the garage?” he asked.  
  
“As you wish, Captain.”  
  
The cell went silent and Steve turned it off. “Go around to the west side of the building. You should be able to get into the private underground garage.”  
  
“Yes, sir,” replied the agent driving them. The car drove around to the west side of the building and the reinforced steel door rolled up with a clang to admit them into the underground garage. The overhead lights flickered on, gleaming over Tony’s collection of cars. On the other side of the large room was a set of parking spaces with Steve’s motorcycle, Clint’s Jeep, and Natasha’s unassuming black sedan.  
  
“Here’s fine,” Steve told the agent. The car slid to a stop and jerked into park a couple of feet away from the elevator. Steve gently shook Tony’s shoulder. “Tony? Tony, time to wake up. We’re home.” Tony groaned, turning his head more fully into Steve’s shoulder. “Come on, Tony,” Steve said, pushing him away. “I know you’re tired but we’re home. Wake up.”   
  
“’M ‘wake,” Tony slurred, dragging his head up and blinking his eyes open. He smiled dopily up at Steve, soft with sleep. Tony raised his arms and slid them around Steve’s neck, leaning in close and pressing a kiss to the blonde’s lips. Steve curled his arms around Tony’s waist and returned the kiss obediently. Tony pulled away after a long moment with a parting nip of teeth. “Come on. Let’s head up before we give junior here any more of a thrill.” Steve turned his head to see the agent sliding down low in the driver’s seat, his face flaming red. Tony chuckled and pulled away, pushing the door open and climbing out of the car.  
  
Steve gave an embarrassed cough and followed. “Thank you for the ride,” he said, leaning his head back into the car.  
  
“No problem, Captain. Sir. Captain America sir,” replied the agent, stammering. Steve smiled and closed the car door on the agent’s flustered groan. The car turned and fled the garage, yellow blinker flashing.  
  
Tony watched the car leave, the elevator door open behind him. The car pulled out onto the street and drove away through the early morning calm. “Jarvis,” Tony prompted. The garage door rattled down and then a large fence dropped from the ceiling over it. The fence gave a slight crackle with energy, sparking coldly blue for a moment.  
  
“Garage secure, Sir,” announced Jarvis.  
  
“Excellent,” Tony replied, snagging Steve’s arm and pulling him into the elevator. “Penthouse, Jarvis,” he ordered through a yawn.  
  
“Of course, Sir,” the AI replied as the elevator began to rise.  
  
Tony leaned heavily against Steve’s arm and Steve wiggled the limb out to curl it around Tony’s waist and tuck him against the blonde’s side. “Are you okay?” he muttered, concerned as Tony blinked owlishly.  
  
“At this time, Sir has been awake for over 36 hours,” Jarvis said, disapproval sharp in his voice.  
  
“Nobody asked you, Benedict Arnold,” snapped Tony.  
  
“It’s alright. The night’s almost over,” soothed Steve. The elevator opened with a ding (which it usually didn’t do. Jarvis’ passive aggressive was showing again) and Tony pulled away with an agreeable hum, heading behind the bar and pulling a water bottle from the fridge. Steve waited for the elevator doors to close again and take him down to his floor but the doors remained pointedly open. Steve cocked an eyebrow and stepped out into the penthouse. The elevator closed. Even Steve could take a hint that loud.  
  
Tony shimmied out of his suit jacket and tossed it over the counter. “You want a drink?” he asked tiredly.  
  
“Water would be good,” answered Steve. Tony got another bottle and tossed it to him, wandering slowly across the living room toward the bedroom.  
  
“What a bloody night,” Tony groaned, entering his bedroom. Steve stopped to lean in the doorway, uncertain of his welcome. Tony toed off his shoes, kicking them toward the door to the closet, and set his water down on top of the dresser. He glanced back at Steve, removing his cufflinks and dropping them onto a tray sitting on the dresser top. “Well? Come on in. It’s not like you’ve never been in my bedroom before.”  
  
Steve wandered over, a slight frown on his face. Tony turned toward him and removed the borrowed tie pin, placing the jewelry on the tray and yanking the tie loose. The cloth slithered off of Steve’s neck and Tony tossed it onto a nearby armchair. Steve’s jacket, wrinkled and blood stained around the collar, followed. Tony’s movements were slow, weary, and soothing in a way that for some reason was not sexual. Tony yawned again, taking off Steve’s cufflinks and adding them to the collection on the dresser. He reached up and brushed at Steve’s hair. “I’m sorry you lost your hat,” he muttered.  
  
Steve’s poor fedora was probably still sitting on the concrete floor of the banquet center garage, ruined with blood. Steve reached up and caught Tony’s hands, folding them between his own and pressing a kiss to the dark haired man’s fingers. “Tony, I’m not sure…”  
  
“Shut up,” Tony said softly, interrupting. “You’re staying the night.” Tony’s eyes were dark in the dimly lit room, tension in his shoulders. “Don’t worry, it’s just to sleep.”  
  
“Just to sleep?” echoed Steve, his thumb rubbing at Tony’s knuckles.  
  
Tony nodded. “Just to sleep. Promise. I just…I just want you near me.”  
  
Steve smiled, turning his hands around to press kisses on each of Tony’s palms. “Alright then. I’ll stay.”  
  
Tony relaxed, smiling softly in return. “Good,” he said, rising up on his toes to press a kiss to Steve’s lips. They kept it a simple press of lips and then Tony stepped back. “You can use the bathroom first. Wash your face and everything. There should be a new toothbrush in the medicine cabinet. Jarvis will help you find it while I get you something to wear to bed.”  
  
“Thank you,” Steve replied, releasing Tony with a last squeeze and heading toward the bathroom. He washed the dried blood from his face and hair and Jarvis guided him to the plastic wrapped toothbrush so Steve could brush his teeth. He yawned as he rinsed his mouth out. Even for a super solider, it had been a long day. He left the bathroom in his suit pants and half unbuttoned dress shirt. Tony was sitting on the edge of the bed, listing to the side a bit like a leaky boat. “Your turn,” Steve muttered, brushing his fingers in a feather light touch across the bruise on Tony’s cheek.   
  
Tony startled and blinked up at him. “’Kay,” Tony muttered, dragging himself up from the bed and shambling zombie like into the empty bathroom.   
  
Steve noticed one of his t-shirts and a pair of cotton pants was folded on the bed. He waited for Tony to shut the bathroom door and then removed the rest of his suit, tugging on the sleeping cloths. He considered the wide bed with its deep red duvet. “Um, Jarvis?”  
  
“Sir usually sleeps on the right side, Captain.”  
  
“Ah. Thank you.” Steve pulled down the covers and began to climb in. There was a clatter in the bathroom and he looked up in concern.  
  
“Sir has merely dropped the toothpaste. He is fine,” reported Jarvis. Steve settled on the bed with a nod and leaned back against the headboard, fingers nervously picking at the blanket.  
  
The toilet flushed and the sink ran in the bathroom and then Tony stumbled out wearing a pair of boxers and a tank top. He collapsed on the bed and inch-wormed his way up to the pillows, kicking the sheets every which way. Tony rolled onto his side and tugged on Steve’s wrist. “Lay down,” he mumbled. Steve shifted down onto his back, stiff and uncertain, and Tony wiggled under his arm and laid his head on Steve’s shoulder.  
  
Steve relaxed a little, chuckling at the dark head resting over his heart. “Comfy?”  
  
Tony grunted in response and then made a little whining noise. All the lights in the bedroom and bathroom clicked off. Tony huffed. “You’re welcome, Sir,” said Jarvis. Steve chuckled again, curling his arm around Tony’s back. The arc reactor glowed faintly blue through the tank top, mostly hidden by Steve’s bulk. Tony patted Steve’s chest with a sleepy hand and sighed, relaxing.  
  
Steve closed his eyes and let exhaustion wash over him. Tony was a warm, heavy weight against his side and it had been a long day. When Tony spoke a few minutes later, it was almost too soft to hear. “Steve?” breathed Tony.  
  
Steve hummed. “Wha?”  
  
“I should probably warn you,” Tony said quietly, “I’m probably going to have a nightmare. I’m told I kick. Sorry in advance.”  
  
Steve opened his eyes and looked down but Tony kept his face firmly buried against his shoulder. “Why do you think you’ll have a nightmare?”  
  
Tony was silent for a long moment and Steve thought he wasn’t going to get an answer. “My subconscious is not a nice place,” Tony finally said, soft as a breeze. “And while tonight ended okay, it’s probably enough to stir up all the other shit lurking in the back of my head. When you and Kevin…the blood…and I…” Steve didn’t think Tony was crying, he didn’t feel any wetness against his shirt, but he could feel small tremors along Tony’s back. “Just roll me off the bed or something,” Tony instructed.  
  
“I would never,” Steve said seriously. “But consider me warned.” Tony stilled and then nodded. Steve stroked along his back, waiting for both of them to calm down again. It wasn’t very long before Tony was slack and breathing evenly, deeply asleep. Steve stilled his hand and closed his eyes, relaxing onto the pillows. When Tony’s breathing quickened and he began to squirm a couple of hours later, Steve woke up and soothed him back to sleep with soft words and gentle hair petting. Tony’s eyes flickered under his eyelids rapidly but he settled again, slowly calming. Twice more Steve woke to sooth the other man but as far as he could tell, he managed to chase away Tony’s nightmares each time.

**Author's Note:**

> Clint calls Tony ‘Princess’ all the time. This story is not beta-read. All mistakes are mine.


End file.
